R.  0.  R05E. 


UNiv       ^y  OP 

C       f      N!A 
SAN  DIEGO 


presented  to  the 

LIBRARY 
UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  •  SAN  DIEGO 

by 
FRIENDS  OF  THE  LIBRARY 

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donor 


R 


BIOGRAPHIES    OF    MUSICIANS. 


LIFE  OF  BEETHOYEN 


LOUIS 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THE  GERMAN 


JOHN  J.  LALOR. 


1  Our  age  has  need  of  vigorous  mindt." 


CHICAGO 

A.  C.  McCLURG  *•  COMPANY 
1892 


BIOGRAPHIES  OF  MUSICIANS. 
I. 

LIFE  OF  MOZART,  From  the  German  of  Dr. 
Louis  Nohl.     With  Portrait.     Price  $1,00. 

II. 

LIFE  OF  BEETHOVEN,  From  the  German 
of  Dr.  Louis  Nohl.  With  Portrait.  Price  £l.oo. 

III. 

LIFE  OF  HAYDN,  From  the  German  of  Dr. 
Louis  Nohl.     With  Portrait     Price  #1.00. 

IV. 

LIFE  OF  WAGNER,  From  the  German  of  Dr. 
Louis  Nohl.     With  Portrait.     Price  gi.QO. 

V. 

LIFE  OF    LISZT,   From  the   German  of  Dr. 
Louis  Nohl.     With  Portrait     Price  f  l.oo. 


A.  C.  McCLUEG  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS. 


COPYRIGHT. 

JAN8EN,  MCCLUEQ  &  COMPANY. 
A.  D.  1880. 


INTRODTJOTIOK 


Music  is  the  most  popular  of  the  arts.  It  fills 
man's  breast  with  a  melancholy  joy.  Even  the  brute 
creation  is  not  insensible  to  its  power.  Yet,  at  its 
best,  music  is  a  haughty,  exclusive  being,  and  not 
without  reason  are  training,  practice,  talent,  and 
the  development  of  that  talent,  required  for  the 
understanding  of  her  secrets.  "  One  wishes  to  be 
heard  with  the  intellect,  by  one's  equals  ;  emotion 
becomes  only  women,  but  music  should  strike  fire 
from  the  mind  of  a  man."  In  some  such  strain  as 
this,  Beethoven  himself  once  spoke,  and  we  know 
how  slowly  the  works  of  the  great  symphonist  found 
a  hearing  and  recognition  from  the  general  public. 

Yet,  who  is  there  to-day  who  does  not  know  the 
name  of  Beethoven  ?  Who  is  there  that,  hearing 
one  of  his  compositions,  does  not  feel  the  presence 
of  a  sublime,  all-ruling  power — of  a  power  that 
springs  from  the  deepest  sources  of  all  life  ?  His 
very  name  inspires  us  with  a  feeling  of  veneration, 
and  we  can  readily  believe  the  accounts  that  have 
come  down  to  us  ;  how  even  strangers  drew  back 
with  a  species  of  awe,  before  this  man  of  imposing 
appearance,  spite  of  his  smallness  of  stature,  with 

(3) 


INTRODUCTION. 


his  rounded  shoulders,  erect  head,  wavy  hair  and 
piercing  glance.  Who  has  not  heard  of  the  two 
charcoal-burners  who  suddenly  stopped  their  heavi- 
ly laden  vehicle  when  they  met,  in  a  narrow  pass, 
this  "crabbed  musician,"  so  well  known  to  all 
Yienna,  and  who  was  wont  to  stand  and  think,  and 
then,  humming,  to  go  his  way,  moving  about  bee-like 
through  nature  from  sunrise,  with  his  nieuioran 
dum-book  in  his  hand. 

"We  are  moved  with  the  same  feeling  of  respect 
that  moved  those  common  men,  when  we  hear  only 
Beethoven's  name  ,  but  how  much  more  powerfully 
are  we  stirred  when  we  hear  his  music  !  We  feel 
in  that  music  the  presence  of  the  spirit  that  ani- 
mates and  sustains  the  world,  and  which  is  contin- 
ually calling  new  life  into  existence.  Even  the 
person  who  is  not  a  musician  himself  may  feel,  in 
these  mighty  productions,  the  certainty  of  the 
presence  of  the  Creator  of  all  things.  Their  tones 
sound  to  him  like  the  voice  of  man's  heart  of 
hearts,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  which  Beethoveii 
has  laid  bare  to  us.  We  feel  convinced,  when  we 
hear  them,  that  the  person  who  in  them  speaks  to 
as  has,  in  very  deea,  something  to  tell  us,  some- 
thing of  our  own  life  ,  because  he  lived  and  felt 
more  deeply  than  we  what  wt  an  live  and  feel,  and 
loved  and  suffered  what  we  all  love  and  suffer,  more 
deeply  than  any  otner  child  of  dust.  In  Beethov- 
en, we  meet  with  a  personage  really  great,  both  in 


INTRODUCTION. 


mind  and  heart,  one  who  was  able  to  become  a 
sublime  model  to  us,  because  life  and  art  were  seri- 
ous things  with  him,  and  one  who  made  it  his  duty 
"  to  live  not  for  himself,  but  for  other  men."  The 
high  degree  of  self-denying  power  found  in  this 
phenomenon  of  art,  it  is  that  has  such  an  elevat- 
ing effect  on  us.  The  duties  of  life  and  the  tasks 
of  the  artist  he  discharged  with  equal  fidelity. 
His  life  was  the  foundation  on  which  the  super- 
structure of  his  works  rose.  His  greatness  as  a 
man  was  the  source  of  his  greatness  as  an  artist. 
The  mere  story  of  his  life,  given  here  in  outline, 
reveals  to  us  the  internal  springs  of  his  artistic 
creations,  and  we  must  perforce  admit,  that  the 
history  of  Beethoven's  life  is  a  part  of  the  history 
of  the  higher  intellectual  life  of  our  time  and  of 
humanity. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

BEETHOVEN'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLIEST  EFFORTS. 

Birth  and  Baptism— His  .Family— Young  Beethoven's  Character— His 
Brothers  Karl  and  Johann— Early  Talent  for  Music— Appears  In 
Public  at  the  Age  of  Seven— Errors  as  to  His  Age — Travels  in  Hol- 
land— Studies  the  Organ  in  Vienna— His  Fame  Foretold — His  Per- 
sonal Appearance— Meets  Mozart— Mozart's  Opinion  of  Him— Maxi- 
milian, Elector  of  Cologne,  and  Mozart— Beethoven's  Intellectual 
Training'— Madame  von  Breuning— First  Love— Beethoven  and 
Hayden— Compositions  written  in  Vienna  ....  9-39 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE  EROICA  AND  FIDELIO. 

Music  in  Vienna— Society  in  Vienna— Beethoven's  Dedications— Lich- 
nowsky — The  Eroica  and  Fidello — Beethoven's  First  Great  Exploits — 
Plans  for  Future  Work— Decides  to  Remove  to  the  North— New  Com- 
positions— His  Improvisations— Disappointments  in  North  Germany 
—Prince  Louis  Ferdinand— Makes  His  Home  in  Austria— Neglects  His 
Health— His  Deafness— Origin  of  the  Eroica— Napoleon  I— Berna- 
dotte— The  Symphony  in  C  Minor— His  Deafness  Again— Thoughts 
of  Marriage— Th«  Guicciardi  Family— Meaning  of  His  Music— His 
"  Will  "—Disappointment— Meaning  of  the  Eroica  and  Fidelio— The 
Leonor*  Overture— Other  Compositions  .  .  .  40-61 

(7) 


8  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER    III. 

fflE  SYMPHONY  C  MINOR.— THE  PASTORALE,  AND   THE  SEV- 
ENTH, SYMPHONIES. 

£  he  Pastorale— Meaning  of  the  Apassionata— Beethoven's  Letter  to  His 
"Immortal  Loved  One"— His  Own  Opinion  of  the  Apassionata— 
Thinks  of  Writing  Operas— Court  Composer— Overture  to  Coriolanus 
—The  Mass  in  C,  op.  86— His  Sacred  Music— The  Fidelio  in  Prague- 
Music  for  Goethe's  Faust—"  Power,  the  Moral  Code  "—Character  of 
His  Works  about  this  Period— Intercourse  with  the  Malfattis— The 
Cello  Sonata,  op.  69— Improvement  in  His  pecuniary  Circumstances 
— Joseph  Bonaparte — Vienna  fears  to  lose  Him — Contemplated  Jour- 
ney to  England— The  Seventh  Symphony— His  Hierathspartie— His 
Letter  to  Bettina— His  Estimate  of  Genius  .  .  .  82-121 

CHAPTER    IV. 

THE  MISSA  SOLEMNIS  AND  THE  NINTH  SYMPHONY. 

Resignation— Pecuniary  Distress— Napoleon's  Decline— The  Battle-Sym- 
phony—Its  Success— Wellington's  Victory— Strange  Conduct— Intel- 
lectual Exaltation— His  Picture  by  Letronne— The  Fidelio  Before  the 
Assembled  Monarchs— Beethoven  the  Object  of  Universal  Atten- 
tion— Presents  from  Kings — The  Liederkreis — Madame  von  Ertman 
— Romulus  and  the  Oratorio — His  "Own  Style" — Symphony  for 
London— Opinion  of  the  English  People — His  Missa  Solemnis — His 
Own  Opinion  of  it— Its  Completion— Characteristics— The  Ninth  Sym- 
phony   122-162 

CHAPTER    V. 

THE  LAST  QUARTETS 

Berlioz  on  the  Lot  of  Artists— Beethoven  Misunderstood— The  Great 
Concert  of  May,  1824— Preparation  for  It— Small  Returns— Beethoven 
Appreciated— The  Quartets— An  "  Oratorio  for  Boston  "—Overture 
on  B-A-C-H— Influence  of  His  Personal  Experience  on  His  Works— 
His  Brother  Johann — Presentiment  of  Death — The  Restoration  of 
Metternich  and  Gentz— His  "  Son  " — Troubles  with  the  Young  Man 
Debility— Calls  for  Dr.  Malfatti— Poverty— The  "Magnanimous" 
English— Calls  a  Clergyman— His  Death  ....  163-201 


LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 


CHAPTER  I. 

1770—1794. 
BEETHOVEN'S  YOUTH  AND  EARLIEST  EFFORTS. 

Birth  and  Baptism — His  Family— Young  Beethoven's  Character 
— His  Brothers  Karl  and  Johann — Early  Talent  for  Music — 
Appears  in  Public  at  the  Age  of  Seven — Error  as  to  His 
Age — Travels  in  Holland — Studies  the  Organ  in  Vienna — 
His  Fame  Foretold  —  His  Personal  Appearance  —  Meets 
Mozart — Mozart's  Opinion  of  Him— Maximilian,  Elector 
of  Cologne,  and  Mozart — Beethoven's  Intellectual  Training 
— Madame  von  Breuning — First  Love — Beethoven  and 
Haydn — Compositions  written  in  Vienna. 

LUDWIG  VAN  BEETHOVEN  was  baptized  in 
Bonn  on  the  17th  of  December,  1770.  We 
know  only  this  the  date  of  his  baptism,  with 
any  certainty,  and  hence  the  17th  of  Decem- 
ber is  assumed  to  be  his  birthday  likewise. 

His  father,  Johann  van  Beethoven,  was  a 
singer  in  the  chapel  of  the  Elector,  in  Bonn. 
The  family,  however,  had  come  originally  from 
the  Netherlands.  Beethoven's  grandfather 
came  to  Bonn  in  1732  after  willfully  leaving  the 
(9) 


10  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

parental  roof  in  consequence  of  a  quarrel.  He 
had  attracted  attention  as  a  bass  singer  in  the 
church  and  the  theater,  and  was  made  director 
of  the  court  band  in  1763.  By  his  industry,  he 
had  founded  a  family,  was  earning  a  respecta- 
ble livelihood,  and  had  won  for  himself  the 
personal  regard  of  the  community.  He  did, 
besides,  a  small  business  in  wines,  but  this, 
which  was  only  accessory  to  his  calling  as  a 
musician,  contributed  to  undermine  both  his 
own  happiness  and  his  son's.  His  wife,  Jos- 
epha  Poll,  fell  a  victim  to  the  vice  of  intemper- 
ance, and,  in  consequence,  it  at  last  became 
necessary  to  confine  her  in  a  convent  in 
Cologne.  Unfortunately,  the  only  surviving 
son  inherited  the  vice  of  his  mother. 
"  Johann  van  Beethoven  was  given  to  the  tast- 
ing of  wine  from  a  very  early  age,"  says  the 
account  of  his  playmates.  It  was  not  long  be- 
fore this  weakness  got  the  upper  hand  to  such 
an  extent  that  his  family  and  home  suffered 
greatly.  It  finally  led  to  his  discharge  from 
his  position.  Stephan  van  Breuning,  our  own 
Beethoven's  friend  in  youth,  saw  him,  on  one 
occasion,  liberate  the  drunken  father  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  police  in  the  public  streets. 


HIS   FAMILY.  11 


We  here  get  a  glimpse  at  a  period  in  Bee- 
thoven's youth,  which  put  the  strength  of  his 
mind  as  well  as  the  goodness  of  his  heart  to 
the  test.  For  in  consequence  of  the  very  re- 
spectable position  occupied  by  his  grand- 
father, of  his  own  early  appointment  as  court- 
organist,  and  of  the  rapid  development  of  his 
talent,  Beethoven  soon  enjoyed  the  society  of 
the  higher  classes,  and  was  employed  in  the 
capacity  of  musician  in  the  families  of  the 
nobility  and  at  court.  Yet,  we  are  told,  when- 
ever it  happened  that  he  and  his  two  younger 
brothers  were  obliged  to  take  their  intoxi- 
cated father  home,  they  always  performed  that 
disagreeable  task  with  the  utmost  tenderness. 
He  was  never  known  to  utter  a  hard  or  un- 
kind word  about  the  man  who  had  made  his 
youth  so  sunless,  and  he  never  failed  to  resent 
it  when  a  third  person  spoke  uncharitably  of 
his  father's  frailty.  The  reserve  and  a  certain 
haughtiness,  however,  which  marked  his  dis- 
position as  a  youth  and  a  man,  are  traceable  to 
these  early  harsh  experiences. 

And  who  knows  the  complications  which 
caused  misfortune  to  get  the  upper  hand  here ! 
True,  we  are  told  that  "Johann  van  Beethoven 


12  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

was  of  a  volatile  and  flighty  disposition;"  but 
even  his  playmates,  when  he  was  a  boy,  had 
nothing  bad  to  say  of  his  character.  Anger 
and  stubbornness  seem,  indeed,  to  have  been 
the  inheritance  of  his  Netherland  nature ;  and 
these  our  hero  also  displayed  to  no  small  extent. 
But  while  the  grandfather  had  earned  a  very 
good  position  for  himself,  and  always  so  deport- 
ed himself  that  young  Beethoven  might  take 
him  as  an  example,  and  loved  to  speak  of  him 
as  a  uman  of  honor,"  his  father  was  never 
more  than  a  singer  in  the  chapel,  on  a  small 
salary.  But,  notwithstanding  his  compara- 
tively humble  social  position,  he  had  made  a 
mistake  in  marrying  below  his  station. 

Johann  van  Beethoven  took  Magdalena 
Kewerich,  of  Ehrenbreitstein,  to  wife,  in  1763. 
She  is  described  as  a  "pretty  and  slender 
woman."  She  had  served  as  a  chambermaid, 
for  a  time,  in  some  of  the  families  of  the  great, 
had  married  young,  and  was  left  a  widow  at  the 
age  of  nineteen.  Johann's  marriage  to  this 
woman  was  not  acceptable  to  the  court  capell- 
meister,  and  so  it  happened  that  he  was  obliged 
to  leave  the  home  in  which  he  had  thus  far 
lived  with  his  lonely  father,  and  move  into  a 


THE   GRANDFATHER  13 

wing  of  the  house,  number  515,  in  Bonn 
street,  where  his  son  Ludwig,  the  subject  of 
this  sketch,  was  born. 

The  young  wife  brought  no  property  to  her 
husband.  Several  children  were  born  to  the 
newly  married  couple  in  quick  succession.  Of 
these,  Karl,  born  in  1774  and  Johann  in  1766, 
play  some  part  in  Beethoven's  life.  The  growth 
of  the  family  was  so  rapid  that  it  was  not  long 
before  they  felt  the  burthen  of  pecuniary 
distress.  The  grandfather,  who  was  well  to 
do,  helped  them,  at  first.  His  stately  figure 
in  his  red  coat,  with  his  massive  head  and  "big 
eyes,"  remained  fixed  in  the  boy  Ludwig's 
memory,  although  he  was  only  three  years  of 
age  when  his  grandfather  died.  The  child 
was,  indeed,  tenderly  attached  to  him.  As 
the  father's  poverty  increased,  he  made  some 
efforts  to  improve  his  condition.  But  they 
were  of  no  avail ;  for  his  deportment  was  only 
"  passable  "  and  his  voice  "  was  leaving  him." 
He  now  had  recourse  to  teaching,  and  obtained 
employment  in  the  theater,  for  he  played  the 
violin  also.  Sickness,  however,  soon  eat  up 
what  was  left  of  his  little  fortune.  Their 
furniture  and  table  ware  followed  their  silver- 


14  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

service  and  linen — "  which  one  might  have 
drawn  through  a  ring," — to  the  pawn-shop; 
and  now  the  father's  poverty  contributed  only 
to  make  him,  more  and  more,  the  victim  of 
his  weakness  for  the  cup. 

But  there  was  even  now  one  star  of  hope  in 
the  dreary  firmament  of  his  existence — his  son 
Ludwig's  talent  for  music.  This  talent  showed 
itself  in  very  early  childhood,  and  could  not, 
by  any  possibility,  escape  the  observation  of 
the  father,  who,  after  all,  was  himself  a  "  good 
musician."  And,  although  the  father  was  not 
destined  to  live  to  see  his  son  in  the  zenith  of 
his  success,  it  was  his  son's  talent  alone  that 
saved  the  family  from  ruin  and  their  name 
from  oblivion,  for  with  the  birth  of  Beethov- 
en's younger  brother,  Johann,  and  of  a  sister 
who  died  shortly  after,  the  circumstances  of 
the  family  became  still  more  straightened. 
Mozart  had  been  in  Bonn  a  short  time  before, 
and  it  occurred  to  the  father  to  train  his  son 
to  be  a  second  little  Mozart,  and,  by  traveling 
with  him,  earn  the  means  of  subsistance  of 
which  the  family  stood  so  sorely  in  need. 
And  so  the  boy  was  rigidly  kept  to  his  lessons 
on  the  piano  and  violin.  His  daily  exercises 


EARLY   TALENT.  15 

on  these  instruments  must  have  been  a  severer 
task  on  him  than  would  seem  to  be  necessary 
in  a  regular  course  of  musical  training. 
He  used  to  be  taken  from  his  playing 
with  other  children  to  practice,  and  friends  of 
his  youth  tell  us  how  they  saw  him  standing 
on  a  stool  before  the  piano  and  cry  while  he 
practiced  his  lessons.  Even  the  rod  was  called 
into  requisition  in  his  education,  and  the  ex- 
postulations of  friends  could  not  dissuade  the 
father  from  such  relentless  severity.  But  the 
end  was  attained.  Regular  and  persevering 
exercise,  laid  the  foundation  of  a  skill  in  the 
art  of  music,  which  led  him  before  the  pub- 
lic when  only  seven  years  of  age.  On  the 
26th  of  March  (by  a  strange  coincidence  the 
day  of  the  month  on  which  Beethoven  died), 
the  father  announced,  in  a  paper  published  in 
Cologne,  that  "  his  son,  aged  six  years,  would 
have  the  honor  to  wait  on  the  public  with  sev- 
eral concertos  for  the  piano,  when,  he  flattered 
himself,  he  would  be  able  to  afford  a  distin- 
guished audience  a  rich  treat ;  and  this  all  the 
more  since  he  had  been  favored  with  a  hearing 
by  the  whole  court,  who  listened  to  him  with 
the  greatest  pleasure."  The  child,  to  enhance 


16  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

the  surprise,  was  made  one  year  younger  in  this 
announcement  than  he  was  in  reality ;  and  this 
led  Beethoven  himself  into  an  error  as  to  his 
age,  which  he  did  not  discover  until  he  was 
nearly  forty. 

We  need  say  but  little  concerning  his  other 
teachers  when  a  youth.  His  great  school  was 
want,  which  urged  him  to  follow  and  practice 
his  art,  so  that  he  might  master  it,  and,  with 
its  assistance,  make  his  way  through  the 
world.  When  Beethoven  grew  to  be  eight 
years  of  age,  he  had  as  a  teacher,  in  addition 
to  his  father,  the  vocalist  Tobias  Pfeiffer,  for  a 
whole  year.  Pfeiffer  lived  in  the  Beethoven 
family.  He  was  a  skillful  pianist.  Beethoven " 
considered  him  one  of  the  teachers  to  whom 
he  was  most  indebted,  and  was  subsequently 
instrumental  in  procuring  assistance  for  him 
from  Vienna.  But  we  may  form  some  idea  of 
the  nature  of  his  instruction,  and  of  the  mode 
of  living  in  the  family,  from  the  fact,  attested  by 
Beethoven's  neighbors,  that  it  frequently  hap- 
pened that  Pfeiffer,  after  coming  home  with 
the  father  late  in  the  night  from  the  tavern, 
took  young  Ludwig  out  of  bed  and  kept  him 
at  the  piano  practicing  till  morning.  Yet  the 


IN    HOLLAND.  17 


success  attendant  on  this  instruction  was  such, 
even  now,  that  when  the  boy,  Beethoven  and 
his  teacher,  who  performed  on  the  flute,  played 
variations  together,  the  people  in  the  streets 
stopped  and  listened  to  their  delightful  music. 
In  1781,  when  Ludwig  was  ten  years  old,  he 
traveled  to  Holland  with  his  mother,  played 
in  the  houses  of  the  great,  and  astonished 
every  one  by  his  skill.  The  profits  from  this 
journey,  however,  cannot  have  been  very 
large.  When  the  boy  was  questioned  about 
them,  he  replied  :  "  The  Dutch  are  a  niggard- 
ly set ;  I  shall  never  visit  Holland  again." 

In  the  meantime,  he  turned  his  attention 
also  to  the  study  of  the  organ.  Under  the 
guidance  of  a  certain  Brother  Willibald,  of  a 
neighboring  Franciscan  monastery,  he  soon 
became  so  proficient  on  that  instrument,  that 
he  was  able  to  act  as  assistant  organist  at  di- 
vine service.  But  his  principal  teachers  here 
were  the  old  electoral  court  organist,  van  den 
Eeden,  and  afterwards,  his  successor,  Christian 
Gottlob  Neefe.  In  what  regards  composition 
the  latter  was  the  first  to  exercise  any  real  in- 
fluence on  Beethoven,  and  Beethoven,  in  after 
years,  thanked  him  for  the  good  advice  he  had 
2 


18  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

given  him — advice  which  had  contributed  so 
much  to  his  success  in  the  "  divine  art."  He 
concludes  a  letter  to  Neefe  as  follows:  "If 
I  should  turn  out  some  day  to  be  a  great  man, 
you  will  have  contributed  to  making  me  such." 
Neefe  came  originally  from  Saxony.  As  an 
organist,  he  had  all  the  characteristics  of  the 
North  German  artists ;  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
he  had,  as  a  composer,  a  leaning  towards  the  son- 
ata-style introduced  by  Ph.  E.  Bach.  He  was  a 
man  of  broad  general  education,  and  the  form 
of  his  artistic  productions  was  almost  faultless. 
Such  was  young  Beethoven's  proficiency  at  the 
age  of  eleven,  in  1782,  that  Neefe  was  able  to 
appoint  him  his  "  substitute,"  and  thus  to  pave 
the  way  for  his  appointment  as  court  organist. 
We  owe  to  him  the  first  published  account  of 
Beethoven,  and  from  that  account  we  learn 
that  the  great  foundation  of  his  instruction 
was  Bach's  "well-tempered  clavichord,"  that 
ne  plus  ultra  of  counterpoint  and  technic.  He 
first  made  a  reputation  in  Vienna  by  his 
masterly  playing  of  Bach's  fugues.  But  the 
instruction  he  had  received  in  composition, 
bore  fruit  also,  and  some  variations  to  a  march 
and  three  sonatas,  by  him,  appeared  at  this 
time  in  print. 


PRECOCITY.  19 


In  the  account  of  Beethoven  referred  to 
above,  and  which  was  written  in  1783,  Neefe 
said  that  that  young  "  genius  "  was  deserving 
of  support  that  he  might  be  able  to  travel, 
and  that  he  would  certainly  be  another  Mo- 
zart. But  the  development  of  his  genius  soon 
took  a  wider  scope.  He  even,  on  one  occasion, 
when  Neefe  was  prevented  doing  so,  presided  at 
a  rehearsal  in  the  Bonn  theater,  in  which  the 
best  pieces  of  the  age  were  produced.  This  was 
at  the  age  of  twelve.  And  so  it  happened  that 
his  artistic  views  and  technic  skill  grew  stead- 
ily greater.  We  are  told  that  when  he  be- 
came court  organist,  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  he 
made  the  very  accurate  vocalist  Heller  lose  the 
key  entirely  during  the  performance  of  divine 
service,  by  his  own  bold  modulations.  True, 
the  Elector  forbade  such  "  strokes  of  genius  " 
in  the  future,  but  he,  no  less  than  his  capell- 
meister  Luchesi,  was  greatly  astonished  at  the 
extraordinary  capacity  of  the  young  man. 

Incidentsof  this  kind  may  have  suggested  the 
propriety  of  giving  him  the  instruction  appro- 
priate for  a  really  great  master  of  art;  and,  in- 
deed, we  find  the  court  organist  of  Bonn  with 
Mozart  in  Vienna,  in  the  spring  of  1787. 


20  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Beethoven's  appearance  was  not  what  would 
be  called  imposing.  He  was  small  of  stature, 
muscular  and  awkward,  with  a  short  snub 
nose.  When  he  was  introduced  to  Mozart, 
the  latter  was  rather  cool  in  his  praise  of  his 
musical  performances,  considering  them  pieces 
learned  by  heart  simply  for  purposes  of  pa- 
rade. Beethoven,  thereupon  requested  Mozart 
to  give  him  a  subject,  that  he  might  try  his 
powers  of  musical  improvisation.  Charmed 
with  the  ability  displayed  in  the  execution  of 
the  task  thus  imposed  on  his  young  visitor, 
Mozart  exclaimed:  "  Mark  that  young  man  ! 
the  world  will  hear  of  him  some  day." 
Beethoven,  however,  received  very  little  in- 
struction from  Mozart,  who  was  so  deeply  en- 
gaged, just  at  this  time,  with  the  composition 
of  his  Don  Giovanni,  and  so  sorely  tried  by 
adverse  circumstances,  that  he  played  very  lit- 
tle for  him,  and  could  give  him  only  a  few  les- 
sons. Besides,  Beethoven's  mother  was  now 
taken  seriously  ill,  and  after  a  few  weeks  he 
had  to  return  home,  where  other  blows  of  a 
hard  fate  awaited  him.  His  kind,  good  moth- 
er, was  snatched  from  him  by  death,  and  his 
father's  unfortunate  weakness  for  strong  drink 


MAXIMILIAN.  21 


obtained  such  a  mastery  over  him  that  he  was 
deprived  of  his  position  shortly  after.  The 
duty  of  supporting  his  two  younger  brothers 
was  thus  imposed  on  Ludwig,  the  eldest. 

Young  Beethoven  was  thus  taught  many  a 
severe  lesson  early  in  life,  in  the  hard  school 
of  adversity.  But  his  trials  were  not  without 
advantage  to  him.  They  gave  to  his  charac- 
ter that  iron  texture  which  upheld  him  under 
the  heaviest  burthens,  nor  was  his  recall  to 
Bonn  a  misfortune.  He  there  found  the  very 
advantages  which  he  had  gone  to  seek  in  the 
musical  metropolis,  Vienna;  for  Maximilian 
Francis,  Elector  of  Cologne,  the  friend  and 
patron  of  Mozart,  was  one  of  the  noble  princes 
of  the  preceding  century,  who  made  their 
courts  the  sanctuary  of  culture  and  of  art. 

Maximilian  was  the  youngest  son  of  Maria 
Theresa.  He  had  received  the  careful  train- 
ing, for  which  that  imperial  house  was  noted, 
and  he  found  in  Joseph  II  an  example  in 
every  way  worthy  of  imitation.  He  was  as 
faithful  to  his  calling  as  an  ecclesiastic  as  to 
his  duties  as  a  ruler,  and  as  adverse  to  what 
he  looked  upon  as  superstition  in  the  garb  of 
Christianity,  as  to  the  extravagance  of  his  pre  • 


22  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

decessors,  who  had  left  the  country  in  a  state 
of  corruption  and  destitution.  He  every- 
where endeavored  to  bring  order  out  of  chaos 
and  to  spread  prosperity  among  his  people. 
A  pure,  fresh  atmosphere  filled  the  little  court 
as  long  as  he  presided  in  it.  He  was  still 
young,  not  much  over  thirty,  and  a  man  of 
the  truest  principles.  Speaking  of  him  as 
"  that  most  humane  and  best  of  princes,"  a 
contemporary  writer  says :  "  People  had  grown 
accustomed  to  think  of  Cologne  as  a  land  of 
darkness,  but  when  they  came  to  the  Elector's 
court,  they  quickly  changed  their  mind." 
The  members  of  the  orchestra  of  the  court 
especially,  among  whom  our  young  court  or- 
ganist is  to  be  reckoned,  were,  we  are  told, 
very  intelligent,  right  thinking  men,  of  ele- 
gant manners  and  unexceptionable  conduct. 

The  Elector  had  opened  the  University  in 
1776,  and  established  a  public  reading-room, 
which  he  visited  with  no  more  ostentation 
than  any  one  else.  "All  these  institutions,  as 
I  looked  upon  it,  had  sworn  allegiance  to  an 
unknown  genius  of  humanity,  and,  for  the 
first  time  in  my  life,  my  mind  had  a  glimmer 
of  the  meaning  and  majesty  of  science,"  writer 


HIS   CULTURE.  23 


the  painter,  Gerhard  Ktiegelgen,and  how  could 
Beethoven  have  thought  differently?  He  had, 
it  is  true,  devoted  himself  so  exclusively  to 
music  that  he  had  made  very  little  progress  in 
anything  else.  In  the  use  of  figures  he  always 
found  great  difficulty,  and  his  spelling  was 
worse  than  could  be  easily  tolerated  even  in 
his  own  day,  when  orthography  was  a  rather 
rare  accomplishment.  He  had  studied  a  little 
French  and  Latin.  But  the  breezes  of  a  higher 
intellectual  culture  which,  at  this  time,  swept 
through  Bonn  and  influenced  him  likewise 
through  his  intimate  intercourse  with  the  most 
highly  cultivated  people  of  the  city,  soon  lift- 
ed him  to  heights  unattained  by  other  artists 
and  musicians  of  his  century — heights  from 
which  he  continually  discerned  new  fields  of 
action.  As  a  consequence  of  this  intercourse 
with  the  learned,  he  acquired  intellectual  tastes 
in  various  directions,  and  so  seriously  occupied 
himself  with  things  intellectual  that  they  be- 
came a  necessity  to  his  nature.  He  tells  us 
himself  that,  without  laying  the  least  claim  to 
real  learning,  it  had  been  his  endeavor  from 
childhood  to  acquaint  himself  with  what  was 
best  and  wisest  in  every  age.  But  these  intel- 


24  THE    LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

lectual  leanings  did  not  prevent  him  from  be- 
ing, as  the  painter  Kuegelgen  said  of  himself, 
lovingly  devoted  to  his  art.  And  his  own 
beloved  art  of  music  was,  at  this  very  time,  cul- 
tivated in  Bonn  with  a  greater  earnestness  and 
devotion  than  anv  other. 

w 

The  writer  referred  to  above,  speaking  of 
the  Elector,  says:  "Not  only  did  he  play  him- 
self, but  he  was  an  enthusiastic  lover  of  music. 
It  seemed  as  if  he  could  never  tire  of  hearing 
it.  Whenever  he  went  to  a  concert,  he  was 
the  most  attentive  person  in  the  whole  audi- 
ence." And  no  wonder ;  for  the  musical  in- 
struction given  to  the  children  of  Maria 
Theresa  was  excellent.  Indeed,  the  art  of  music 
in  Vienna  was  at  that  time  at  its  height. 
That  city  was  the  scene  of  the  labors  of  Gluck, 
Haydn  and  Mozart.  And  so  there  was  only 
good  music  to  be  heard  in  the  "  cabinet  "  at 
Bonn.  Our  Beethoven,  now  a  distinguished 
pianist,  contributed  his  share  to  this;  and 
we  need  not  be  surprised  to  find  him  employed 
by  a  prince  who  knew  Mozart  and  loved  him. 

But  it  was  not  musicians  alone  who  were 
benefited  by  prince's  patronage.  No  sooner 
did  the  condition  of  the  country  leave  him 


THE    ORCHESTRA.  25 

the  necessary  leisure,  and  the  state  of  its 
finances  afford  him  the  necessary  means,  than 
he  turned  his  best  attention  to  the  theater  and 
the  orchestra.  As  far  back  as  1784,  Maxi- 
milian Francis  had  organized  an  orchestra,  and 
our  young  court  organist  took  a  place  in  it  as 
a  player  of  the  tenor  violin.  The  violinist, 
Hies,  and  Simrock,  a  performer  on  the  French 
horn,  were  also  members  of  it.  Hies  and 
Simrock  had  henceforth  much  to  do  with 
Mozart.  The  following  year,  a  troupe  visited 
Bonn,  and  gave  Italian  operas,  French  vaude- 
villes, as  well  as  Gluck's  Alceste  and  Orpheus. 
They  were  followed  by  Grossmann,  a  person 
of  rare  intellect,  and  one  who  holds  a  dis- 
tinguished place  in  the  history  of  German 
dramatic  art.  His  repertory  included  the 
plays  of  Shakespeare,  Lessing,  Schiller  and 
Goethe,  with  all  of  whom  Beethoven  thus  be- 
came acquainted  early  in  life.  In  1788,  Maxi- 
milian Francis  established  a  national  theater, 
and,  dating  from  this,  dramatic  poetry  and 
music  began  to  flourish  in  Bonn,  so  that  it 
took  its  place,  in  this  respect,  side  by  side  with 
Mannheim,  Vienna  and  Weimar,  and  became 
a  school  well  calculated  to  foster  the  great 


26  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

abilities  of  Beethoven.  In  the  orchestra  we 
find  such  men  as  Andreas,  Bernhard  Romberg 
and  Anton  Reicher,  afterwards  so  celebrated  as 
a  writer  on  the  theory  of  music.  The  latter 
was,  at  this  time,  Beethoven's  most  intimate 
friend  and  companion  in  art.  Actors,  too,  come 
upon  the  stage,  many  of  whom  subsequently 
filled  all  Germany  with  their  fame.  Dramatic 
works  of  every  description  appeared.  There  was 
Martin's  Tree  of  Diana,  Mozart's  Elopement 
from  the  Seraglio,  Salieri's  Grotto  of  Tropho- 
nim,  Dittersdorf's  Doctor  and  Apothecary, 
and  Little  Red  Hiding  Hood,  Gluck's  Pilgrim 
of  Mecca,  besides  Paisiello's  King  Theodore, 
and  greatest  of  &\\,Don  Giovanni.  The  music 
"pleased  connoisseurs  ;"and  Figaro's  Marriage 
greatly  charmed  both  singers  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  orchestra,  who  vied  with  one  an- 
other to  do  justice  to  that  beautiful  opera. 
"The  strength  of  our  theater,"  says  a  writer 
of  the  time,  characteristically  and  simply, 
"lay  in  our  opera." 

This  continual  contemplation  of  "  charac- 
ters in  tone "  played  a  decided  •  part  in  the 
development  of  an  artist  who  was  destined  to 
infuse  into  instrumental  music  so  much  of 


IMPROVISATION.  27 

poetical  and  even  of  dramatic  life.  We  are 
informed  that  Beethoven's  power  of  delineat- 
ing character  in  the  language  of  music  was  so 
great,  even  at  this  time,  that  when  improvis- 
ing, which  he  was  very  fond  of  doing,  he  was 
frequently  asked  "  to  describe  the  character  of 
some  well  known  person."  One  distinguish- 
ing peculiarity  of  the  Bonn  orchestra  had  a 
marked  influence  in  the  development  of  the 
great  symphonist  of  the  future,  Beethoven. 
We  refer  to  what  has  been  called  "  the  accur- 
ate observation  of  musical  light  and  shade,  or 
of  the  forte  and  piano."  This  musical  pecu- 
liarity was  introduced  into  the  Bonn  orchestra 
by  a  former  capellmeister,  Mattioli,  "a  man 
full  of  fire  and  refined  feeling,"  who  had 
learned  orchestral  accentuation  and  declama- 
tion from  Gluck,  and  whose  musical  enthu- 
siasm caused  him  to  be  considered  the  superior 
of  Cannabich  of  Mannheim,  who  played  such 
a  part  in  Mozart's  life,  and  who  had  originated 
this  mode  of  musical  delivery  in  Germany. 
He  was  succeeded  by  Joseph  Reicha,  under 
whose  energetic  leadership  the  Bonn  orchestra 
reached  its  highest  point  of  perfection.  In 
the  autumn  of  1791,  we  find  that  entire  or- 


28  THE    LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

chestra  in  Mergentheim,  the  seat  of  the  Ger- 
man order  of  which  Maximilian  Francis  was 
Grand  Master  ;  and  we  have  an  account  of  it 
from  Mergentheim  which  gives  us  a  very  clear 
idea  of  Beethoven's  life  as  a  student. 

Our  informant  tells  us,  in  the  first  place, 
that  he  was  very  much  impressed  by  an  octet  t 
of  wind  instruments.  All  eight  players  were, 
he  says,  masters  who  had  reached  a  high  de- 
gree of  truth  and  perfection,  especially  in  the 
sustaining  of  tones.  Does  not  this  remind  one 
of  Beethoven's  exquisite  septett  op.  20  ?  How 
Bies  infused  life  and  spirit  into  all  by  his  sure 
and  vigorous  bowing  in  the  orchestra  !  What 
once  could  be  heard  only  in  Mannheim,  we 
are  told,  was  now  heard  here — the  close  ob- 
servance of  the  piano  and  the  forte  and  the 
rinforzando,  the  swell  and  gradual  growth  of 
tone,  followed  by  the  dropping  of  the  same 
from  the  utmost  intensity  to  the  merest  breath. 
Bernhard  Romberg's  playing  is  lauded  for 
"perfection  of  expression  and  its  fine  shades 
of  feeling  which  appeal  to  the  heart;"  his 
cousin  Andreas's  for  "taste  in  delivery,"  and 
the  true  art  of  his  "  musical  painting."  Can 
we  wonder  that  Beethoven's  emulation  of,  and 


HIS    PLAYING.  29 


struggling  for  the  mastery  with  such  men 
contributed  constantly  to  develop  his  genius  ? 
He  is  praised  for  the  peculiar  expression  of 
his  playing,  and  above  all  for  the  speaking, 
significant,  expressive  character  of  his  fancy. 
Our  informant  says,  in  closing  his  account:  "I 
found  him  wanting  in  nothing  which  goes  to 
make  the  great  artist.  All  the  superior  per- 
formers of  this  orchestra  are  his  admirers. 
They  are  all  ears  when  he  plays,  but  the  man 
himself  is  exceedingly  modest  and  without 
pretension  of  any  kind." 

We  have  now  seen  what  was  Beethoven's 
technical  training  both  by  practice  and  ex- 
ample, on  the  organ  and  the  piano,  in  the  the- 
ater and  the  orchestra,  and  how  all  these  were 
to  him  a  school  of  musical  composition;  for 
the  Bonn  orchestra  was  as  conversant  with 
Mozart  and  Haydn  as  we  of  to-day  are  with 
Beethoven.  How  thoroughly  he  comprehend- 
ed and  appreciated  Mozart  especially,  is  at- 
tested by  what  he  once  said  to  John  Cramer, 
the  only  piano-player  to  whom  Beethoven  him- 
self applied  terms  of  high  praise.  The  two 
were  walking,  in  1799,  in  the  park  in  Vienna, 
listening  to  Mozart's  concert  in  C  minor. 


30  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEX. 

•'  Cramer  !  Cramer ! "  Beethoven  exclaimed, 
when  he  heard  the  simple  and  beautiful  theme 
near  the  close:  "We  shall  never  be  able  to  ac- 
complish anything  like  that"  "  What  a  mod- 
est man  ! "  was  the  reply.  This  leads  us  to 
say  something  of  the  few  beautiful,  purely 
human  gifts  which  were  the  fruit  Beethoven 
enjoyed  through  life,  of  his  youth  in  Bonn. 

In  Bonn,  lived  Madame  von  Breuning,  with 
her  four  children,  who  were  only  a  little 
younger  than  our  court-organist.  Beethoven 
and  one  of  the  sons,  Stephan,  received  instruc- 
tion in  music  from  Bies,  and  were  thus  thrown 
together.  But  it  was  not  long  before  our 
young  artist  himself  was  called  upon  to  teach 
the  piano  in  the  family  of  Madame  von 
Breuning.  How  lonely  Beethoven  felt  after  his 
good  mother  had  succumbed  to  her  many  suf- 
ferings and  sorrows,  we  learn  from  the  first 
letter  of  his  that  has  come  down  to  us.  We 
there  read:  "She  was  so  good  and  amiable  a 
mother  to  me  !  She  was  my  best  friend.  O, 
who  was  happier  than  I  while  I  could  yet 
pronounce  the  sweet  name  of  mother !  There 
was  once  some  one  to  hear  me  when  I  said 
mother ! '  But  to  whom  can  I  address  that 


MADAME    BREUXIXG.  31 

name  now?  Only  to  the  silent  pictures  of 
her  which  my  fancy  paints."  But  Madame 
von  Breuning  became  a  second  mother  to  him ; 
and  what  her  home  was,  we  are  informed  by 
Doctor  Wegeler,  afterwards  husband  of 
Madame  von  Breuning's  daughter  Eleonore, 
for  a  time  one  of  Beethoven's  pupils.  He 
writes:  "Her  home  was  pervaded  by  an 
atmosphere  of  unconstrained  refinement,  spite 
of  aii  occasional  outburst  of  the  petulance  of 
youth.1'  The  boy,  Christoph,  took  very  early 
to  the  writing  of  little  poems.  Stephan  did  the 
same  thing  at  a  much  later  date,  and  successful- 
ly. The  useful  and  agreeable  were  found  com- 
bined in  the  little  social  entertainments  of 
fVm'ly  friends.  It  was  not  long  before 
Beethoven  was  treated  as  one  of  the  children. 
He  spent  the  greater  part  of  the  day  in  Madame 
Bruening's  home,  and  not  unfrequently,  the 
night.  He  felt  at  home  in  the  family,  and  every- 
thing about  him  contributed  to  cheer  him  and 
to  develop  his  mind."  When  it  is  known,  on 
the  authority  of  the  same  Doctor  Wegeler, 
that  it  was  at  Madame  von  Breuning's  home 
that  Beethoven  first  became  acquainted  with 
German  literature,  that  there  he  received  his 


32  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

first  lessoDS  in  social  etiquette,  it  is  easy  to  es- 
timate the  value  to  him  of  the  friendship  of 
the  Breuning  family — a  friendship  which  was 
never  interrupted  for  a  moment  during  his 
long  life. 

It  was  while  in  the  enjoyment  of  this  inter- 
course with  the  Breuning  family  that  he  felt 
the  first  charming  intimations  of  the  tender 
passion.  Wegeler  makes  mention  of  two 
young  ladies,  one  of  whom,  a  pretty,  cheerful 
and  lively  blonde,  Jeannette  d'  Honrath,  of 
Cologne,  was  a  frequent  visitor  at  the  Breun- 
ing's.  She  took  delight  in  teasing  our  young 
musician,  and  playfully  addressed  him,  sing- 
ing: 

"  Mich  heute  noch  von  dir  zu  trennen, 
Und  dieses  nicht  verhindern  koennen, 
1st  zu  empfendlich  fur  mein  Herz  !"  * 

His  favored  rival  in  Jeannette's  affections 
was  a  captain  in  the  Austrian  army,  by  the 
name  of  Greth.  His  name  occurs,  in  1823, 
in  the  written  conversations  of  our  deaf  mas- 
ter. He  was  just  as  much  taken  with  the 
sweet  and  beautiful  Miss  W.  (Westherhold), 

*  To  part  from  thee,  my  dear,  this  day, 
And  know  that  I  can't  with  thee  stay, 
la  more  than  my  sad  heart  can  bear. 


SOCIAL   LtFE.  33 


but  to  no  purpose.  He  called  his  love  for  her 
a  "  young  Werther's  love,"  and,  many  years 
after,  he  told  B.  Romberg  a  great  many  anec- 
dotes about  it.  What  he  thought  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Breuning  family  and 
these  two  young  persons  may  be  inferred  from.' 
the  words  in  which  he  dedicated  the  variations 
Se  vuol  ballare,  to  his  friend  Lorchen  (Eleo- 
nore  Breuning)  in  1793:  "May  this  work," 
he  says,  "  serve  to  recall  the  time  when  I 
spent  so  many  and  such  happy  hours  in  your 
home." 

Besides  the  home  of  the  Breunings,  in  which 
Beethoven  was  always  so  welcome,  we  may 
mention  another — that  of  Count  Waldstein,  to 
whom  the  sonata  op.  23  is  dedicated.  The 
count  was  very  friendly  to  Beethoven.  He 
was  aware  of  his  genius,  and,  on  that  account, 
afforded  him  pecuniary  assistance.  Yet,  to 
spare  the  artist's  feelings,  this  assistance  was 
made  to  have  the  appearance  of  coming  from 
the  Elector.  It  may  be  that  it  was  this  same 
amiable  and  art-loving  young  Austrian  who  en- 
deavored to  keep  Beethoven's  eye  fixed  on  the 
one  place  in  the  world  in  which  he  could  re- 
ceive the  final  touch  to  his  musical  education, 
3 


34  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

—  Vienna.     The  verv  multitude  of  Beethov- 

•i 

en's  ideas,  and  the  height  to  which  his  intellect 
had  soared,  showed  him  that  he  was  far  from 
having  reached  perfection  in  the  artistic  repre- 
sentation of  those  ideas.  His  readiness  of  execu- 
tion and  his  wonderful  power  of  improvisation, 
even  now,  assured  him  victory  wherever  he 
went.  But  the  small  number  of  compositions 
which  he  wrote  at  this  time,  in  Bonn,  is  suffi- 
cient proof  that  he  did  not  feel  sure  of  himself 
as  a  composer.  And  yet  he  had  now  reached 
an  age  at  which  Mozart  was  celebrated  as  a 
composer  of  operas. 

In  March,  1790,  Haydn,  on  his  journey  to 
London,  passed  through  Bonn,  and  was  pre- 
sented to  the  orchestra  by  Maximilian  Francis, 
in  person.  He  returned  in  the  summer  of 
1792,  and  as  Mozart  had  died  in  the  mean- 
time, nothing  was  more  natural  than  that 
Beethoven  should  apply  to  the  greatest  living 
musician  for  instruction.  The  Elector  assisted 
him ;  and  we  may  divine  how  the  young  mu- 
sician's heart  must  have  swelled,  now  that  he 
had  entered  the  real  wrestling-place  in  his 
art,  from  what,  as  we  stated  before,  he  said  to 
his  teacher  Neefe  :  "  If  I  ever  become  a  great 


THE   REVOLUTION.  35 

man,"  etc.  But  what  was  there  that  is  not 
expected  from  such  a  person  ?  Waldstein 
expressed  the  "  realization  of  his  long  con- 
tested wishes"  by  writing  in  Beethoven's 
album:  "By  uninterrupted  industry,  thou 
wilt  acquire  the  mind  of  Mozart  from  the 
hands  of  Haydn."  When  the  wars  of  the 
Revolution  swept  over  the  boundaries  of 
France,  the  excitement  produced  was  great 
and  universal.  Beethoven  was  affected  only 
by  its  ideal  side.  He  was  spared  the  sight  of 
the  grotesque  ridiculousness  of  the  sans 
culottes  and  the  blood  of  the  guillotine. 
After  a  short  journey,  in  November,  1792, 
Vienna  afforded  him  a  safe  retreat  which  he 
never  afterwards  left.  It  was  not  long  before 
the  French  were  masters  of  the  Rhine.  Max- 
imilian Francis  was  obliged  to  flee,  and  thus 
every  prospect  of  Beethoven's  returning  home 
was  lost. 

It  now  became  imperative  that  he  should 
take  care  of  himself.  His  two  brothers  were 
provided  for — Karl  was  a  musician  and  Jo- 
hann  an  apothecary.  They  soon  followed  him 
to  Vienna,  where  it  was  not  long  before  they 
renewed  the  scenes  of  his  home  life  in  Bonn. 


36  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

But  his  own  constant  endeavor  was  to  be  the 
creative  artist  that,  as  he  became  more  firmly 
convinced  every  day,  he  was  born  to  be.  His 
studies  under  Haydn,  then  under  Schenk,  with 
whom  the  readers  of  the  Life  of  Mozart  are 
familiar  from  his  connection  with  the  opera  of 
the  Magic  Flute,  afterwards  under  the  dry-as- 
dust  Albrechtsberger,  the  teacher  of  counter- 
point, and  even  under  Mozart's  deadly  enemy, 
Salieri — were  earnestly  and  zealously  pursued, 
as  is  evident  from  what  he  has  left  after  him. 
But  even  now  his  mind  was  too  richly  devel- 
oped and  his  fancy  too  lofty  to  learn  any- 
thing except  by  independent  action.  Ten  of 
Beethoven's  works  date  from  the  time  he  lived 
in  Bonn;  but,  during  his  first  sojourn  in 
Vienna,  compositions  flowed  in  profusion  from 
his  pen,  and  we  cannot  but  suppose  that  the 
germs  of  many  of  these  last  were  sown  during 
the  period  of  his  virtuosoship  in  Bonn.  We 
conclude  this  chapter  with  a  list  of  the  works 
here  referred  to. 

Besides  his  first  attempts  at  musical  compo- 
sition already  mentioned,  a  concerto  for  the 
piano  written  in  1784,  and  three  quartets  for 
the  piano  written  in  1785,  which  were  after- 


COMPOSITIONS.  37 


wards  made  use  of  in  the  sonatas  op.  2,  we 
must  add,  as  certainly  dating  from  this  period 
of  Beethoven's  life  in  Bonn,  a  ballet  by  Count 
Waldstein  (1791),  a  trio  for  the  piano  in  E 
flat,  the  eight  songs  of  op.  52,  which  appeared 
in  1805,  two  arias,  one  of  which  occurs  in  this 
op.  as  Goethe's  Mailied,  a  part  of  the  Baga- 
tellen  op.  33  which  appeared  in  1803,  the  two 
preludes  op.  39,  a  minuet  published  in  1803, 
the  variations  Vieni  Amore  (1790),  a  funeral 
cantata  on  the  death  of  Joseph  II.  (1790),  and 
one  on  that  of  Leopold  II.  (1792),  the  last  of 
which  was  submitted  to  Haydn  and  which  he 
thought  a  great  deal  of — both  of  these  latter 
compositions  are  lost — an  allegro  and  minuet 
for  two  flutes,  a  rondino  for  reed  instruments 
and  the  string  trio  op.  3  which  appeared  in 
1796. 

In  addition  to  these,  there  are,  in  all  proba- 
bility, many  other  compositions  which  were 
completed  during  Beethoven's  first  sojourn  in 
Vienna,  and  published  at  a  still  later  date ;  the 
octet  op.  103,  after  which  the  quintet  op. 
4  was  patterned  before  1797,  the  serenade  op. 
8,  which  contained  the  germ  of  his  nocturne 
op.  42  ;  the  Variations  op.  66,  on  Em  Maed- 


38  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

chen  oder  Weibchen,  from  the  Magic  Flute 
(published  in  1798);  the  variations  on  God 
Save  the  King,  the  Romance  for  the  violin,  both 
of  which  appeared  in  1805,  when  Beethoven's 
brother  secretly  published  much  of  his  music ; 
the  variation  on  Se  Vuol  Ballare  from  Mozart's 
Figaro;  the  Es  War  Einmal  from  Ditters- 
droff's  Little  Red  Riding  Hood,  the  "  See  He 
Comes,"  the  Messias,  and  a  theme  by  Count 
Waldstein  (appeared  1793,  1797),  the  Easy 
Sonata  in  C  major,  dedicated  to  Eleonore  von 
Breuning;  the  prelude  in  F  minor  (appeared 
in  1805),  and  the  sextet  for  wind  instruments, 
op.  71,  which  appeared  in  1810. 

In  his  twenty-third  year,  Mozart  could  point 
to  three  hundred  works  which  he  had  com- 
posed, among  them  the  poetical  sonatas  of  his 
youth.  How  little  of  sunshine  and  leisure 
must  there  have  been  in  a  life  which,  spite  of 
its  extraordinary  intellectual  wealth  and  ac- 
tivity, reaped  so  little  fruit !  And  even  if  we 
fix  the  date  when  the  three  trios  op.  1,  were 
composed  in  this  period,  when  Beethoven  was 
for  the  first  time  taught  the  meaning  of  the 
world  and  history,  by  the  stormy  movements 
of  the  last  decade  of  the  last  century;  and 


HIS    YOUTH.  39 


admit  that  the  two  concertos  for  the  piano 
(op.  19  and  op.  15)  owe  their  origin  to  the 
wonderful  fantasias  with  which  he  charmed 
the  hearts  and  minds  of  the  people  of  Bonn 
at  that  time,  yet  how  little  did  he  achieve ! 
This  fact  is  the  most  convincing  proof  of  the 
truth  of  Beethoven's  own  assertion,  that  for- 
tune did  not  favor  him  in  Bonn.  Leaving 
his  musical  training  out  of  consideration, 
Beethoven's  youth  was  not  a  very  happy  one. 
Seldom  was  it  brightened  for  any  length  of 
time  by  the  smiles  of  joy. 


CHAPTER  II. 

1795—1806. 
THE  EROICA  AND  FIDELIO. 

Music  in  Vienna — Society  in  Vienna — Beethoven's  Dedications 
— Lichnowsky — The  Eroica  and  Fidelio — Beethoven's  First 
Great  Exploits — Plans  for  Future  Work — Decides  to  Re- 
move to  the  North — New  Compositions — His  Improvisa- 
tions— Disappointment  in  North  Germany — Prince  Louis 
Ferdinand — Makes  His  Home  in  Austria — Neglects  His 
Health — His  Deafness — Origin  of  the  Eroica — Napoleon  I 
— Bemad  otte — The  Symphony  in  C  Minor — His  Deafness 
Again — Thoughts  of  Marriage — The  Guicciardi  Family — 
Meaning  of  His  Music — His  "  Will  " — Disappointment — 
Meaning  of  the  Eroica  and  Fidelio — The  Lenore  Overture 
—Other  Compositions. 

The  golden  age  of  music  in  Vienna  bad  not 
passed  away  when  Beethoven  came  to  that 
city.  Not  the  court,  but  the  wealthy  nobility, 
and  a  great  many  circles  of  the  cultured  found 
in  music  the  very  soul  of  their  intellectual  life 
and  of  a  nobler  existence.  A  consequence  of 
this  was  that  more  attention  was  paid  to  cham- 
ber music  than  any  other;  and  we  accordingly 
find  that  the  greater  number  of  Beethoven's 

compositions,  written  at  this  period,  are  of  that 
(40) 


HIS    DEDICATIONS.  41 

style  of  music.  Their  very  dedications  tell  us 
much  of  the  social  circles  of  Vienna,  and  of 
the  persons  who  graced  them. 

First  of  all,  we  have  the  three  trios  op.  1, 
dedicated  to  Prince  Karl  von  Liclmowsky. 
The  man  who  had  been  the  pupil  and  friend 
of  Mozart  might  be  glad,  indeed,  to  see  a  sub- 
stitute found  so  soon  for  that  departed  genius. 
A  quartet  consisting  of  the  able  artists 
Schuppenzigh,  Sina,  Weiss  and  Kraft,  played 
at  his  house  every  Friday.  Dr.  Wegeler  in- 
forms us  that  Beethoven,  in  1794,  lived  with 
the  Prince,  who,  at  a  later  date,  paid  him  a 
salary  of  twelve  hundred  marks.  The  varia- 
tions on  Seht  er  Kommt,  (See  he  comes)  1797, 
were  dedicated  to  his  consort,  the  Princess 
Chris tiane,  nee  Thun.  She  prized  Beethoven 
very  highly,  and,  as  he  once  said  of  her  him- 
self, would  have  liked  to  encase  him  in  glass, 
that  he  might  be  screened  from  the  defiling 
breath  and  touch  of  the  unworthy.  The  first 
three  sonatas  op.  2  are  dedicated  to  J.  Haydn, 
and  they  introduce  us  to  his  special  patron, 
the  Prince  Esterhazy,  with  whom  Beethov- 
en was  not  very  intimate,  although  the  com- 
mission to  write  the  mass  op.  86  was  given  by 


42  THE    LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Nicholas  Esterhazy.  The  quartet  op.  4,  as 
well  as  the  sonatas  for  violin,  op.  23  and  24 
(1800),  and  the  string  quintet  op.  29  (1801), 
are  dedicated  to  Count  Fries.  There  is  much 
in  Beethoven's  life  to  show  that  he  was  on 
terms  of  close  friendship  with  this  rich  "mer- 
chant." The  sonata  op.  7  (1797),  is  dedicat- 
ed to  Countess  Keglevics.  The  first  concerto, 
which  was  finished  in  1794,  is  dedicated  to  the 
same  person,  then  known  as  Princess  Odescal- 
chi.  The  trios  op.  9,  as  well  as  the  brilliant 
sonata  op.  22,  belong,  by  right  of  dedication, 
to  the  Russian  Count  Browne,  whom  Beethov- 
en himself  called  le  premier  Mecene  de  sa  muse, 
and  the  sonatas  op.  10  (1798),  to  his  consort. 
To  the  Countess  von  Thun,  he  dedicated  the 
trio  op.  11,  composed  the  same  year,  and  the 
sonatas  op.  12,  to  Salieri,  one  of  his  teachers 
in  Vienna. 

How  highly  Beethoven  esteemed  Lichnow- 
sky  is  evidenced  by  the  dedication  to  him  of 
op.  14,  the  Pathetique  (1799).  In  it  we 
find  the  earliest  expression  of  Beethoven's 
view  of  music  as  a  voice  speaking  to  man's 
innermost  nature,  calling  to  him  to  live  a 
higher  life.  To  Lichnowsky,  likewise,  was 


AUSTRIAN    NOBLES.  43 

dedicated  the  sonata  op.  26  with  the  beautiful 
funeral  march  (1802).  The  two  lovely  sona- 
tas op.  14  of  the  year  1799,  as  well  as  the  sonata 
for  the  horn,  op.  17  (1800),  are  dedicated  to 
the  Countess  Braun,  whose  husband  gave 
Beethoven,  some  years  after,  the  commission 
for  the  Fidelia;  and  the  quintet  op.  16  which 
was  finished  in  1797  to  Prince  Schwarzen- 
berg.  When  we  connect  the  name  of  Prince 
Lobkowitz  with  the  first  quartets  op.  18,  com- 
posed in  1797-1800;  that  of  Baron  von 
Swieten  the  lover  of  the  well-tempered  clavi- 
chord with  the  first  symphony  op.  21  (1800), 
that  of  the  learned  von  Sonnenfels  with  the  so- 
called  pastoral  sonata  op.  28  (1801),  we  can  see 
the  force  of  the  remark  made  by  J.  F. 
Keichart,  that  the  Austrian  nobility  of  this 
period  loved  and  appreciated  music  better  prob- 
ably than  any  other  in  the  history  of  the 
world.  That  they  did  not  continue  to  do  so 
is  due  entirely  to  the  fact  of  the  general  dis- 
turbance of  their  pecuniary  circumstances  con- 
sequent on  the  wars  which  came  to  an  end 
only  in  1815,  and  which  diminished  their  favor- 
able influence  on  the  cultivation  of  the  art  of 
music.  But  our  artist  had  all  the  advantages 


44  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

of  this  noble  patronage.  He  spared  no  pains 
nor  sacrifice  to  profit  by  it.  But  his  mind 
could  not  rest  in  the  mere  enjoyment  of 
music.  It  sought  other  and  higher  spheres. 
His  art  was  destined  to  absorb  into  itself  the 
whole  world  of  culture,  to  take  an  active  part 
in  the  march  of  history  and  co-operate  in  giv- 
ing expression  to  the  ideas  of  life.  The  first 
real  exploits  of  our  artist  were  the  Eroica  -and 
the  Fidelio  with  the  Leonore  overture ;  but 
the  path  which  led  to  them  was  one  on  which 
those  immediately  surrounding  him  could  not 
very  well  follow  him,  and  one  which  subse- 
quently isolated  him  personally  more  and  more 
from  his  fellow  men  . 

It  was  an  ill-defined  longing  for  this  starry 
path  of  a  higher  intellectual  existence  which 
brought  him  to  the  north  of  Germany,  to 
Berlin,  after  he  had  finished  the  principal 
parts  of  the  course  in  music  under  Haydn, 
Schenk  and  Albrechtsberger.  Not  that  he 
did  not  meet  with  recognition  and  remunera- 
tion in  his  new  home.  But,  after  all,  the 
recognition  and  remuneration  he  met  with 
there  were  such  as  a  virtuoso  might  expect. 
For  the  present,  neither  the  public  nor  music 


FUTURE    PLANS.  45 

publishers  would  have  much  to  do  with,  his 
compositions.  Writing  to  Schiller's  wife,  the 
young  Bonn  professor,  Fischenich,  says  of 
him:  "So  far  as  my  acquaintance  with  him 
goes,  he  is  made  for  the  great  and  the  sublime. 
Haydn  has  said  that  he  would  give  him  great 
operas,  and  soon  be  compelled  himself  to  stop 
composing."  He  informs  her,  at  the  same 
time,  that  Beethoven  was  going  to  set  her  hus- 
band's Hymn  to  Joy — Freude  choener  Goetter- 
funken — to  music.  We  thus  see  that  he,  even 
now,  harbored  those  great  ideas  which  engaged 
him  at  the  close  of  his  labors,  in  the  composi- 
tion of  the  Ninth  Symphony.  There  were  as 
yet  but  few  traces  to  be  found  in  Vienna  of 
the  intellectual  awakening  to  which  Germany 
is  indebted  for  its  earliest  classical  literature, 
and  the  period  of  its  great  thinkers  in  the  west 
and  the  north.  On  the  other  hand,  Beethoven's 
own  mind  was  too  full  of  the  "storm  and 
stress"  to  be  able  to  appreciate  the  beautiful 
harmony  and  the  warmth  which  had  made 
such  phenomena  as  Haydn  and  Mozart  pos- 
sible in  South-German  Austria.  But  in  the 
North,  the  memory  of  "old  Fritz"  still  lived; 
there  the  stern  rule  of  mind  and  conscience, 


46  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

generated  by  Protestantism,  still  prevailed, 
while  the  firm  frame- work  of  his  own  art,  the 
counterpoint  of  the  great  Bach,  the  "  first 
father  of  harmony,"  as  he  calls  him  himself, 
was  there  preserved,  apparently,  in  its  full 
strength.  In  addition  to  all  this,  the  court 
there  was  fond  of  music,  and  King  Frederick 
William  II  had  endeavored  to  keep  Mozart, 
the  greatest  master  of  his  time,  in  Berlin; 
while  Beethoven,  since  the  Elector's  flight 
from  Bonn,  had  no  further  prospects  in  his 
home  on  the  Rhine.  He,  therefore,  decided 
to  remove  to  the  North. 

We  find  him  on  his  journey  thither  at  the 
beginning  of  1796.  "  My  music  secures  me 
friends  and  regard — what  more  do  I  want  ?  " 
he  writes  from  Prague  to  his  brother  Johann, 
who,  in  the  meantime,  had  entered  into  the 
employment  of  an  apothecary  in  Vienna.  He 
here  composed  the  aria  Ah  Perfido  (op.  65). 
On  his  way  to  Berlin  he  passed  through 
Dresden  and  Leipzig,  but  of  his  stay  in  these 
two  cities,  we  have  no  information.  The  king 
received  him  very  graciously ;  he  played  a 
few  times  at  court  and  composed  the  sonatas 
for  cello,  op.  5,  because  the  king  himself  played 


IMPROVISATIONS.  47 

the  violin  cello.  The  very  first  impression  re- 
ceived by  Beethoven  seems  to  have  been  de- 
cisive. K.  Ezerny,  to  whom  he  taught  the 
piano,  tells  us  something  from  his  own  recol- 
lection and  observation  about  him,  which  is 
very  characteristic  of  the  man,  and  shows  how 
sorely  disappointed  he  felt  in  his  most  ardent 
expectations  in  Berlin.  He  says:  "His  im- 
provisation was  very  brilliant,  astonishing  in 
the  highest  degree  ....  No  matter  in  what 
society  he  was  thrown,  he  made  such  an  im- 
pression on  all  his  hearers  that  it  frequently 
happened  that  not  a  dry  eye  was  to  be  seen, 
while  many  broke  into  sobs.  There  was  some- 
thing wonderful  in  his  expression,  besides  the 
beauty  and  originality  of  his  ideas,  and  the 
highly  intellectual  way  he  had  of  presenting 
them.  When  he  had  finished  an  improvisa- 
tion of  this  kind  he  could  break  out  into  a  fit 
of  loud  laughter  and  ridicule  his  hearers  on  the 
emotions  he  had  excited.  At  times  he  even  felt 
injured  by  those  signs  of  sympathy.  "  Who," 
he  asked,  "  can  live  among  such  spoiled  chil- 
dren ?"  and  for  that  reason  alone  he  once  de- 
clined an  invitation  extended  to  him  by  the 
king  of  Prussia,  after  an  improvisation  of  this 
kind. 


48  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Beethoven  was  doomed  to  a  disappointment 
of  a  very  peculiar  kind  here.  Instead  of  the 
manliness  of  character  which  he,  coming  from 
the  softer  South,  expected  to  find  in  the  North, 
he  was  confronted  with  a  voluptuous  luxury 
to  which  his  art  was  only  a  handmaid,  and 
with  an  apparent  surfeit  of  music,  the  natural 
outgrowth  of  the  French  influence  due  to  Vol- 
taire's residence  in  Berlin.  Such  was  not  the 
spirit  of  the  new  era  which  animated  himself, 
and  for  the  operation  of  which  he  was  seeking  a 
proper  theater  of  action.  The  king  himself 
did  all  in  his  power  to  make  Gluck  and 
Mozart  settle  in  Berlin,  and  Handel's  oratorios 
were  played  even  at  the  court  concerts.  But 
how  could  a  man  like  Beethoven  have  worked 
side  by  side  with  the  ruling  leaders  in  music — 
with  a  Himmel  and  a  Rhigini  ?  The  only  per- 
son in  Berlin  who  seemed  to  Beethoven  a  man, 
in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  was  Prince  Louis 
Ferdinand.  With  genuine  frankness,  he  re- 
marked of  the  prince's  playing  that  "it  was 
not  kingly  or  princely,  but  only  that  of  a  good 
piano  player."  But  it  is  probable  that  from 
the  prince  he  borrowed  the  chivalric  and,  at 
the  same  time,  poetico-enthusiatic  character 


AUSTRIA    HIS   HOME.  49 

found  in  his  third  concerto  (op.  37),  which  was 
finished  in  1800  and  dedicated  to  the  prince, 
"  the  most  human  of  human  beings." 

He  played  twice  in  the  Singing  Academy 
before  its  conductor,  Fasch,  and  his  successor, 
Zelter,  Goethe's  well-known  friend,  when  he 
again  brought  the  tears  to  the  eyes  of  his 
hearers.  But  he  clearly  saw  from  the  exam- 
ple of  these  two  principal  representatives  of 
the  more  serious  taste  for  music  in  Berlin,  that 
it  was  not  Bach's  spirit  which  he  was  in  search 
of  that  ruled  there,  but  only  a  caricature  of 
it ;  and  this  last  was  by  no  means  a  counter- 
poise to  the  Italian  style  of  music,  which  still 
held  absolute  sway.  He  returned  to  Vienna 
disappointed  in  every  respect,  but  with  all  the 
greater  confidence  in  himself.  He  never  again 
left  Austria  for  good.  It  became  the  scene  of 
his  grandest  achievements,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  their  history  began. 

In  a  small  memorandum  book  used  by 
Beethoven  on  his  journey  from  Bonn  to 
Vienna,  we  find  the  following  passage:  "Take 
courage.  Spite  of  all  physical  weakness,  my 
mind  shall  rule.  I  have  reached  my  twenty- 
fifth  year,  and  must  now  be  all  that  I  can  be. 
4 


50  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Nothing  must  be  left  undone."  The  father 
always  represented  Beethoven  to  be  younger 
than  he  really  was.  Even  in  1810,  the  son 
would  not  admit  that  he  was  forty  years  of  age. 
The  words  quoted  above  must,  therefore,  have 
been  written  in  the  winter  of  1796  or  1797; 
and  this  fact  invests  them  with  a  greater  sig- 
nificance than  they  would  otherwise  possess ; 
for  our  artist  now  saw  that,  without  the  shadow 
of  a  doubt,  Austria  and  Vienna  were  to  be  his 
abiding  places;  and  he,  therefore,  strained 
every  nerve,  regardless  of  what  the  consequen- 
ces might  be,  "  to  be  a  great  man  sometime ;" 
that  is,  to  accomplish  something  really  good  in 
music.  This  regardlessness  of  consequences 
manifested  itself  especially  in  the  little  care  he 
seemed  to  take  of  his  physical  well-being.  A 
friend,  who  had  every  opportunity  to  observe 
him,  Baron  von  Zmeskall,  informs  us  that 
"  in  the  summer  of  1796,  he  came  home 
almost  overpowered  by  the  heat,  tore  open  the 
doors  and  windows  of  the  house,  took  off  his 
coat  and  vest  and  seated  himself  at  an  open 
window  to  cool  himself.  The  consequence  of 
his  imprudence  was  a  dangerous  illness,  which 
ultimately  settled  on  the  organs  of  hearing. 


HIS    DEAFNESS.  51 


From  this  time  his  deafness  kept  on  increas- 
ing." It  is  possible  that  the  first  symptoms 
of  his  deafness  did  not  appear  as  early  as 
1796;  but  certain  it  is,  that  it  dates  back  into 
the  last  decade  of  the  last  century,  that  it  was 
brought  about  by  heedlessness  of  his  health,  and 
that  it  became  a  severe  tax  on  his  moral  cour- 
age. His  genius  was  so  absorbed  in  his  music, 
that  he  too  frequently  forgot  to  take  care  of  the 
physical  man.  In  November,  1796,  Stephan 
von  Breuning  remarked  of  him,  that  "his 
travels  had  contributed  to  mature  his  char- 
acter ;  that  he  was  a  better  judge  of  men,  and 
had  learned  to  appreciate  the  value,  but,  at  the 
same  time,  the  rarity  of  good  friends."  The 
hard  trials  of  life  had  added  to  the  earnestness 
of  his  disposition,  and  he  was  awakening  to  a 
full  sense  of  what  his  own  dutv  in  this  world 

•/ 

was.  This  leads  us  to  the  first  great  and  mem- 
orable work  of  his  genius — to  the  Eroica,  fol- 
lowed soon  after  by  the  symphony  in  C  minor. 
When,  in  the  year  1806,  one  of  his  friends 
informed  Beethoven  of  Napoleon's  victory  at 
Jena,  he  exclaimed :  "  It's  a  pity  that  I  do  not 
understand  the  art  of  war  as  well  as  I  do  the 
art  of  music.  If  I  did  I  certainly  would  con- 


52  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

quer  him."  These  words  express  a  rivalry 
almost  personal  in  its  nature,  and  could  have 
been  spoken  only  by  a  fool  or  by  a  man  of 
power  not  unlike  that  of  Napoleon  himself. 
And,  indeed,  leaving  out  of  consideration  men 
of  genius  like  Goethe  and  Schiller,  whose 
fame  had  been  long  established  on  a  firm 
foundation,  there  were  among  his  contempo- 
raries men  of  sovereign  ambition,  only  one 
person,  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  able  to  make  any 
great  impression  on  a  man  who  had  chosen 
for  his  motto :  "Power  is  the  moral  code  of 
men  who  distinguish  themselves  above  others; 
and  it  is  mine,  too."  A  series  of  the  most 
brilliant  victories  was  achieved  up  to  1798  by 
the  General  of  the  glorious  French  Republic, 
who  was  of  the  same  age  as  Beethoven.  Gen- 
eral Bernadotte,  whose  descendants  occupy  the 
throne  of  Sweden  in  our  day,  had  participated 
in  those  victories.  Bernadotte  was  the  French 
Ambassador  to  Vienna  in  the  beginning  of 
1798.  He  was  young ;  by  his  origin  he  belong- 
ed to  the  middle  class ;  he  was  the  representa- 
tive of  the  Republic,  and  could,  therefore,  in- 
dulge, unconstrained,  in  personal  intercourse 
with  whomsoever  he  pleased. 


BERNADOTTE.  53 


The  celebrated  violinist,  Rudolph  Kreutzer, 
to  whom  Beethoven's  Kreutzer  Sonata  (op. 
47)  is  dedicated,  was  one  of  his  retinue.  It 
was  very  natural  that  once  Bernadotte  and 
Kreutzer  became  acquainted  with  Beethoven, 
their  intercourse  with  him  and  their  friend- 
ship for  him,  should  have  been  more  than 
usually  intimate.  Bernadotte,  who  was  sin- 
cerely devoted  to  Napoleon,  and  who  must 
have  felt  himself  drawn  still  more  closely  to 
Beethoven,  because  of  his  enthusiasm  for  the 
general,  suggested  to  him  the  idea  of  celebrat- 
ing the  exploits  of  his  hero  by  a  symphony. 
Beethoven  so  informed  his  amanuensis,  Schind- 
ler,  in  1823,  and  his  account  is  corroborated 
by  other  facts,  that  such  was  the  first  impulse 
to  the  composition  of  the  Eroica. 

But  the  advocate  of  power  was  destined  soon 
to  swell  to  the  proportions  of  the  hero  of  in- 
tellectual courage.  "  For  thus  does  fate  knock 
at  the  gates."  Beethoven  used  these  words  in 
1823,  in  speaking  "  with  uncontrollable  en- 
thusiasm' of  that  wonderful  motive  at  the 
opening  of  the  symphony  in  C  minor.  The 
last  movement  of  the  work,  the  fanfare-like 
finale,  so  expressive  of  the  joy  of  victory, 


54  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

shows  that  he  here  described  a  victory  indeed, 
the  surmounting  of  the  obstacles  and  darkness 
of  life,  even  if  those  obstacles  and  that  dark- 
ness consisted  only  of  "  the  infirmities  of  the 
body."  The  sketches  of  this  movement,  how- 
ever, occur  in  the  draft  of  the  quartet  op.  18, 
and  hence  must  have  been  noted  down  before 
the  year  1800!  But  the  fact  that  the  melody 
of  the  adagio  was  also  found  in  that  sketch 
shows  that  he  was  even  then  as  certain  of 
mastering  sorrow,  as  he  was  conscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  "demon  in  his  ears,"  and  of 
the  sad  prospect  of  a  "  wretched  "  and  lonely 
future — a  prospect  which  stirred  him  to  the 
very  depths  of  his  soul. 

But  it  was  years  before  these  motives  took 
shape  in  his  mind.  To  do  justice  to  the  great 
ideas  to  which  they  give  expression,  to  the 
heroic  victory  of  power  and  will  over  whatever 
opposes  them,  he  had  to  concentrate  and 
strengthen  all  his  powers  of  mind  and  heart, 
and  to  develop  his  talents  by  long  exercise. 
The  portraiture  of  the  struggles  and  of  the 
artistic  creations  of  the  next  succeeding  years 
constitutes  the  transition  to  those  first  great 
heroic  deeds — a  transition  which  must  be  un- 


LOVE    AFFAIRS.  55 


derstood  by  all  who  would  understand  Bee- 
thoven's music. 

The  Napoleonic  way  in  which  Beethoven, 
at  the  close  of  the  last  century,  outgeneraled 
all  the  most  celebrated  virtuosos  of  the  time  in 
Vienna  and  in  Europe,  is  attested  by  his  tri- 
umph over  the  renowned  pianist  Woelffl,  in 
1799,  and  his  defeat  of  Steibelt,  in  1800.  But 
he  did  still  more  towards  achieving  success  by 
his  works.  His  numerous  variations  won  over 
to  him  many  a  fair  player  of  the  piano,  while 
his  Adelaide,  which  appeared  in  1797,  gained 
for  him  the  hearts  of  all  persons  of  fine  feel- 
ing; so  that  Wegeler  may  have  told  the  simple 
truth,  when  he  wrote:  "Beethoven  was  never, 
at  least  so  long  as  I  lived  in  Vienna  (1794-96), 
without  a  love  affair;  and  he  occasionally  made 
a  conquest  which  it  would  have  been  very  hard, 
if  not  impossible,  for  many  a  handsome  Adonis 
to  have  made."  The  "ugly,"  pock-marked 
man,  with  the  piercing  eyes,  was  possessed 
of  a  power  and  beauty  more  attractive  than 
any  mere  physical  charms.  And  then,  there 
was  the  charm  of  his  sonatas :  op.  7,  with  the 
funeral  song  in  adagio,  which  he  is  said  to 
have  written  in  a  tempest  of  "passionate  feel- 


56  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

ing";  of  op.  10,  with  its  genuine  masculine 
profile;  of  the  revolutionary  sonata  in  C  minor, 
with  the  mysterious  struggle  in  the  allegretto 
in  No.  II.,  and  the  brilliant  exultation  of  vic- 
tory in  the  allegro  in  No.  III.,  the  tragic  song  of 
the  largo,  the  gentle  grace  of  the  minuet — here 
used  exceptionally  in  the  place  of  the  scherzo, 
as  we  find  it  already  in  op.  1 ;  and,  last  of  all, 
the  droll  question  of  little  Snub  Nose,  in  the 
finale.  And  yet  these  were  followed  by  the 
Pathetique,  with  its  exquisite  and  enrapturing 
adagio,  and  the  two  beautiful  love  songs,  op. 
14;  by  the  six  quartets,  op.  18,  in  which  he 
offered  to  a  society  of  friends  of  his  art,  true 
songs  of  the  soul  and  pictures  of  life  overflow- 
ing ;  by  the  adagio  of  No.  I,  another  Romeo- 
and-Juliet  grave  scene ;  by  the  adagio  of  No. 
VI.,  descriptive  of  the  melancholy  which,  even 
now,  began  to  gather  its  dark  clouds  about 
Beethoven  himself,  whose  breast  was  so  well 
attuned  to  joy.  The  descriptive  septet  (op. 
20,  1800,)  and  the  first  symphony  (op.  21), 
sketched  after  the  style  of  Haydn,  but  painted 
with  Mozart's  pencil,  are  the  last  scenes  in 
what  we  may  call  Beethoven's  older  life,  which 
closed  with  the  eighteenth  century.  The  be- 


NEGLECTS    HIS    HEALTH.  57 

ginning  of  the  nineteenth,  opened  a  new  world 
to  our  artist. 

The  new  world  thus  opened  to  Beethoven, 
and  the  manner  in  which  he  himself  conceived 
it,  may  be  best  described  in  Schiller's  magnifi- 
cent verses : 

"  Wie  ebon,  0  Mensch,  mit  deinem  Palmenzweige 
Stehst  du  an  des  Jahrhunderts  Neige, 
In  edler  stolzer  Mannlichkeit! 
Mit  aufgeschlossnem  Sinn,  mit  Geistesftllle, 
Voll  milden  Ernsts,  in  thatenreicher  Stille, 
Der  reifste  Sohn  der  Zeit. 
Frei  durch  Vernunft,  stark  durch  Gesetze, 
Durch  Sanftmuth  gross  und  reicli  durch  Schatze, 
Die  lange  Zeit  dein  Busen  dir  verschewieg.  " 

And  now  began  for  Beethoven  a  period  of 
severe  trials,  brought  upon  him  by  himself. 
Absorbed  in  work,  he  neglected  to  take  suffi- 
cient care  of  his  physical  health.  His  trouble 
with  his  hearing  was  increasing,  but  he  paid  no 
attention  to  it.  His  carelessness  in  this  re- 
gard reduced  him  to  a  condition  in  which  he 
would  have  found  no  alleviation  and  no  joy, 
were  it  not  for  the  inexhaustible  resources  he 
possessed  within  himself. 

But  to  understand  him  fully,  we  must  read 
what  he  wrote  himself,  in  June,  1801,  to  the 
"best  of  human  kind,"  his  friend  Amenda,  in 


58  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Kurland,  who  had  left  Vienna  two  years  be- 
fore.    He  says : 

"  Your  own  dear  Beethoven  is  very  unhappy.  He 
is  in  conflict  with  nature  and  with  God.  Many  and 
many  a  time  have  I  cursed  Him  because  He  has  made 
His  creatures  the  victims  of  the  smallest  accidents  in 
nature,  and  this  to  such  an  extent  that  what  promises 
to  be  best  and  most  beautiful  in  life,  is  destroyed, 
You  must  know  that  what  was  most  precious  to  me, 
my  hearing,  has  been,  in  great  part,  lost.  How  sad 
my  life  is  !  All  that  was  dear  to  me,  all  that  I  loved 
is  gone  !  How  happy  would  I  now  be,  if  I  could  only 
hear  as  I  used  to  hear!  If  I  could,  I  would  fly  to 
thee  ;  but  as  it  is,  I  must  stay  away.  My  best  years 
will  fly,  and  I  shall  not  have  fulfilled  the  promise  of 
my  youth,  nor  accomplish  in  my  art  what  I  fondly 
hoped  I  would.  I  must  now  take  refuge  in  the  sad- 
ness of  resignation." 

We  have  here  the  words  to  the  long-drawn 
funereal  tones  of  a  song  as  we  find  it  at  the 
beginning  of  the  celebrated  C  sharp  minor 
(Mondschein)  sonata  op.  27  No.  II,  which 
belongs  to  this  period.  The  direct  incentive 
to  its  composition  was  Seume's  poem,  die  Bet- 
erin  in  which  he  gives  us  a  description  of  a 
daughter  praying  for  her  noble  father,  who  has 
been  condemned  to  death.  But  in  this  pain- 
ful struggle  with  self,  we  also  hear  the  storm 


GIULIETTA.  59 


of  passion,  in  words  as  well  as  in  tones.  Bee- 
thoven's life  at  this  time  was  one  of  sorrow. 
He  writes :  "  I  can  say  that  I  am  living  a 
miserable  life.  I  have  more  than  once  exe- 
crated my  existence.  But  if  possible  I  shall 
bid  defiance  to  fate,  although  there  will  be,  I 
know,  moments  in  my  life  when  I  shall  be 
God's  most  unhappy  creature."  The  thun- 
ders of  power  may  be  heard  in  the  finale  of 
that  sonata.  When  it  was  published,  the  fol- 
lowing year,  its  dedication  ran  :  Alia  dami- 
gella  contessa  Giulietta  Guicciardi.  The 
celebrated  Giulietta  !  Her  friendship  was, 
indeed,  a  cheering  ray  of  sunshine  in  Bee- 
thoven's "wretched  life"  at  this  time.  As  he 
writes  himself  in  the  fall  of  the  year  1801 : 

"My  life  is  some  what  pleasanter  now.  I  move  about 
among  men  more  than  I  used  to.  *I  am  indebted  for 
this  change  for  the  better  to  a  lovely,  charming  girl 
who  loves  me  and  is  loved  by  me.  For  two  years  now 
I  have  had  once  more  some  moments  of  happiness,  and 
for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  feel  that  marriage  might 
make  one  happy.  Unfortunately,  she  does  not  belong 
to  my  social  circle.  But  if  I  cannot  get  married  at 
the  present  time,  I  shall  have  to  mix  more  among 
men." 

The    family    of    the   imperial   counsellor, 


60  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Count  Guicciardi,  originally  from  Modena, 
was  one  of  the  families  of  the  higher  class  with 
whom  Beethoven  had  formed  an  intimate  ac- 
quaintance through  his  art.  Guicciardi's  wife 
belonged  to  the  Hungarian  family  of  the 
Brunswicks,  who  were  likewise  very  friendly 
to  Beethoven.  We  shall  yet  have  something 
to  say  of  the  Countess  Theresa  Brunswick,  for 
whom  and  whose  sister,  the  charming  Countess 
Deym,  the  variations  for  four  hands  on  Ich 
denke  dein,  were  written  in  1800.  Countess 
Giulietta  was  in  her  sixteenth  year,  and  as 
good  as  betrothed  to  Count  Gallenberg,  a 
musician  and  composer  of  ballet  music.  He 
was,  however,  in  such  pecuniary  straits  that 
Beethoven  had,  on  one  occasion,  to  come  to 
his  assistance  through  a  friend.  The  young 
girl  did  not  give  any  serious  thought  to  a 
union  with  the  Count,  although  he  belonged 
to  her  own  social  circle.  The  attractions  of 
a  genuine  love  had  more  charms  for  her.  This 
same  true,  genuine  love  possessed  Beethoven's 
soul.  He  writes  to  his  friend  Wegeler  : 

"  I  feel  that  my  youth  is  only  now  beginning.  Was 
I  not  always  a  sickly  man  ?  But,  for  a  time,  my  physi- 
cal strength  has  been  increasing  more  than  ever  be- 


SONATA    OP.  31.  61 

fore,  and  the  same  is  true  of  my  mental  power.  With 
every  succeeding  day  I  approach  nearer  to  the  goal 
which  I  feel,  but  cannot  describe.  Thus  only  can  I 
live.  No  rest !  I  know  of  no  repose  but  sleep,  and  it 
sorely  pains  me  that  I  have  now  to  allot  more  time  to 
sleep  than  was  once  necessary.  Let  me  be  only  half 
freed  from  my  trouble  and  then,  a  perfectly  mature 
man,  I  shall  come  to  you  and  renew  our  old  friendship. 
You  must  see  me  as  happy  as  it  is  given  me  to  be 
here  below.  You  must  not  see  me  unhappy;  that  is 
more  than  I  could  bear.  I  shall  struggle  manfully 
with  fate,  and  be  sure,  it  will  not  overcome  me  entire- 
ly. O,  how  beautiful  it  would  be  to  live  life  over  a 
thousand  times!  But  I  am  not  made  for  a  quiet  life." 

To  this,  Beethoven's  elasticity  of  soul,  which 
lifted  him  to  the  height  of  joy  and  of  intel- 
lectual delight,  we  are  indebted  for  those  works 
of  his  which  are  models  of  poetic  creation. 
What  became  of  the  traditional  form  of  the 
sonata  after  Beethoven  began  to  tell  in  song 
the  meaning  of  joy  and  pain  and  of  their 
wonderful  admixture,  as  he  did  in  the  sonata 
op.  31,  No.  II,  the  first  movement  of  which 
looks  as  if  thrown  off  with  a  single  stroke  of 
the  pen  ?  There  are  the  thoughtful  ques- 
tionings of  fate  in  the  opening  chord;  the 
jubilant,  tempestuous  enjoyment  of  pleasure; 
the  expression  of  woe,  more  terrible  in  an- 


62  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

ticipation  than  realization,  when  misery 
wrings  a  cry  of  pain  from  him,  and  he  breaks 
out  in  recitative — a  form  of  art  never  before 
coupled  with  an  instrument,  but  which  is  here 
more  eloquent  than  words.  Sorrow,  joy  and 
genius  have  now  transformed  the  mere 
musician  into  the  artist  and  the  poet.  Bee- 
thoven, as  the  master  of  the  intellectual 
world  of  tones,  began  his  career  with  this 
sonata  in  D  minor.  From  this  time  for- 
ward, his  every  piece  is  a  psychological  pic- 
ture of  life.  The  form  of  the  sonata  had  now 
fully  developed  the  intellectual  germ  which  in 
it  lay.  It  is  no  longer  mere  form,  but  a  finite 
vessel  holding  an  infinite  intellectual  treasure 
as  its  contents.  Even  the  separate  parts  of  it, 
although  retained  as  usual,  are  henceforth 
only  phases  and  stages  of  the  development  of 
that  intellectual  treasure.  They  are  acts  of  a 
drama  played  in  the  recesses  of  a  human  soul — 
in  the  soul  of  a  man  who  is  forced  to  taste, 
while  still  he  laughs  in  his  melancholy,  the 
tragic  contents  of  the  cup  of  human  life  dur- 
ing every  moment  of  his  existence.  For  thus 
it  was  now  with  Beethoven.  The  deepest  sor- 
row endows  him  with  untrammeled  serenitv 


HIS  "WILL."  63 


of  mind.  Darkness  becomes  to  him  the  par- 
ent of  a  higher  light.  A  humor  that  weeps 
through  its  smiles  is  henceforth  his. 

On  this  sonata  followed  a  symphony  with 
the  real  Beethoven  flavor,  the  second  sym- 
phony (op.  36).  It  had  its  origin  in  the 
"sublime  feeling"  which  "animated"  him  in 
the  beautiful  summer  days  of  1802;  as  had 
also  the  brilliant  Kreutzer  Sonata  (op.  47). 
This  summer  of  1802  is  a  memorable  one  in 
Beethoven's  life.  It  brought  with  it  the 
severest  trials  of  his  courage  as  a  man.  These 
trials  transformed  him  into  a  hero,  and  were 
the  incentives  to  the  composition  of  the  Eroica. 
To  this  period  belongs  the  so-called  "  Heili- 
genstadt  Will,"  which  discloses  to  us  the  in- 
most depths  of  Beethoven's  soul. 

His  physician  had  ordered  him  in  October, 
1802,  to  the  village  of  Heiligenstadt,  near 
Vienna,  in  a  condition  of  the  utmost  hopeless- 
ness. Beethoven  thought  that  death  was  not 
far  off,  and,  anxious  to  justify  himself  before 
posterity,  he  wrote  from  that  place:  "O,  you 
men,  who  think  or  say  that  I  am  malignant, 
obstinate  or  misanthropic,  what  an  injustice 
you  do  me !  You  know  not  the  secret  cause  of 


64  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

what  you  think  you  see.  From  childhood  up, 
my  heart  and  mind  have  been  bent  upon  the 
accomplishment  of  great  deeds;  I  was  ever 
moved  thereto  by  the  feeling  of  benevolence. 
To  accomplish  such  deeds  I  was  always  dis- 
posed. But  consider  that  for  six — yes,  six 
whole  years,  I  have  been  in  a  most  unfortunate 
condition — a  condition  which  has  been  made 
worse  by  the  stupidity  of  my  physicians;  that 
my  hopes,  from  year  to  year,  of  being  cured 
have  been  disappointed,  and  that  at  last  there 
lies  before  me  the  prospect  of  permanent  ill. 
Born  with  an  active  and  even  fiery  tempera- 
ment, a  lover  of  the  distractions  of  society,  I 
had  to  live  in  a  state  of  isolation  from  all  men. 
How  humbled  I  felt  when  a  person  standing 
near  me  could  hear  a  flute  that  was  playing  in 
the  distance,  while  I  could  hear  nothing ! 
Experiences  like  this  brought  me  to  the  very 
verge  of  despair,  and  I  came  very  near  ending 
my  own  life.  Art  alone  held  me  back.  It 
seemed  to  me  impossible  that  I  should  leave 
the  world  until  I  had  accomplished  all  for 
which  I  felt  myself  so  well  fitted.  O  God, 
thou  seest  my  heart  Thou  seest  that  it  har- 
bors beneficence  and  love  for  human  kind.  O 


RELIGIOUS   MUSIC.  65 

you  men,  when  you  read  this,  remember  that 
you  have  wronged  me,  and  let  the  unfortunate 
rejoice  to  find  one  of  their  number  who,  spite 
of  the  obstacles  put  in  his  way  by  nature,  did 
all  in  his  power  to  be  admitted  into  the  ranks 
of  artists  and  men  worthy  of  the  name." 

And  now,  too,  we  find  in  his  music  the 
first  traces  of  such  appeals  to  the  Godhead.  The 
text  of  the  six  songs  of  Gellert,  op.  48,  which 
appeared  in  1803,  are  of  a  religious  nature. 
But,  in  the  domain  of  religion,  our  artist  had 
not  yet  risen  to  his  full  height.  He  is  still  pre- 
ponderantly the  musician  of  life,  force  and  of 
the  brilliant  play  of  the  intellect;  and  his  com- 
positions are  still  pre-eminently  works  of  art 
and  of  the  fancy.  The  Eroica  (op.  55),  which 
was  finished  in  1803,  possessed  these  character- 
istics in  the  highest  sense  of  the  word.  And  now 
we  may  understand  what  he  felt  himself,  as  he 
said  in  his  "  Will,"  fitted  to  accomplish,  as 
well  as  the  mysterious  conversation  he  had  in 
1823,  with  his  amanuensis,  Schindler,  in  which 
he  speaks  of  this  period  of  his  life,  and  of 
Giulietta,  who  had  now  long  been  the  Countess 
Gallenberg,  and  who  had,  a  short  time  before, 
returned  from  Naples,  where  her  husband  had 
5 


66  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

acted  as  director  of  the  theater  for  years. 
The  conversation  in  question  begins  thus:  It 
was  held  in  the  French  language — 

Beethoven — "  She  was  mine  before  she  was 
her  husband's  or  Italy's,  and  she  paid  me  a 
visit,  bathed  in  tears ;  but  I  despised  her." 

Schindler— "  By  Hercules!" 

Beethoven — "  If  I  had  parted  in  that  way 
with  my  strength,  as  well  as  my  life,  what 
would  have  remained  to  me  for  nobler  and  bet- 
ter things  ?" 

Beethoven  had  said  of  himself  that  he 
had  something  to  do  in  the  world  besides  mar- 
rying. His  ideal  was  not  to  live  in  such 
cramped  circumstances.  He  knew  of  "  nobler 
and  better  things."  Yet  it  seems  that  he  of- 
fered his  hand  to  the  "  lovely,  charming  girl  " 
in  this  year  1803,  when  he  began  to  have  a 
prospect  of  permanently  bettering  his  condi- 
tion, and  that  Giulietta  was  not  disinclined  to 
marry  him.  But  family  considerations  pre- 
vented the  decisive  step;  and  she  was  married 
in  the  fall  of  the  same  year  to  Count  Gallen- 
berg.  "  Despising  "  her — whether  rightly  or 
wrongly  we  have  no  means  of  determining, 
but  we  do  know  that  she  was  not  happy — 


LOVE   AND    AMBITION.  67 

Beethoven  turned  to  the  performance  of  the 
great  tasks  for  which  he  felt  himself  fitted. 

Our  artist's  life,  like  that  of  a  thousand 
others,  thus  proves  the  truth  of  the  old  saying : 
the  course  of  true  love  never  did  run  smooth. 
In  his  earlier  biographies  this  episode  has  been 
treated  as  a  great  and  even  tragic  event,  be- 
cause that  remarkable  letter  to  his  "  immortal 
love,"  of  which  we  shall  yet  have  occasion  to 
speak,  was  erroneously  supposed  to  be  ad- 
dressed to  Countess  Guicciardi  and  to  refer  to 
this  circumstance  in  his  life.  But  although 
no  more  than  an  episode,  Beethoven  could 
here  have  mastered  his  feelings  only  by  the 
full  consciousness  he  now  possessed  of  the  duty 
he  owed  to  his  genius.  As  Liszt  says,  le  genie 
oblige,  and  Beethoven  felt  that  it  was  a  duty 
genius  owed  to  mankind  to  sacrifice  mere  am- 
bition and  even  the  heartfelt  happiness  that  is 
born  of  love.  The  day  before  Guilietta's 
wedding,  he  wrote  to  Macco,  the  painter : 
"  You  paint,  and  I  shall  compose  music.  In 
this  way,  we  shall  be  immortal ;  yes,  perhaps 
live  forever."  And  that  our  artist  had  some 
/ight  to  lay  claim  to  such  immortality  is 
proved  not  only  by  his  sonatas,  which  are  little 


68  THE    LIFE    OF   BEETHOVEN. 

poems  in  themselves,  by  his  songs  and  quartets, 
but  by  mighty  and  memorable  works  which 
reflect  the  world-soul.  He  was  working  on 
that  grand  creation,  the  Eroica.  This  sac- 
rifice of  his  feelings  may  have  been,  and  most 
likely  was,  forced  upon  him  by  the  accident 
of  the  uncertainty  of  his  position  in  life,  but 
that  it  was  not  made  without  a  struggle  is 
manifest  from  his  expression  of  contempt  for 
Giulietta — mais  je  la  meprisais  but  still  more 
from  the  ideal  of  the  value  of  faithful  love 
which  now  became  rooted  in  his  soul,  and 
which  we  see  reflected  in  the  Fidelia,  that 
immediately  followed  the  Eroica,  and  which 
presents  us  with  the  most  beautiful  of  all 
female  characters.  In  its  composition,  we  find 
united  that  warmth  of  heart  and  that  intellect- 
ual in  sight  so  peculiarly  Beethoven's  own,  and 
which  he  so  beautifully  embodied  in  his  art. 
On  the  golden  background  of  his  enthusiasm 
for  "  nobler  and  better  things,"  the  sweet  face 
of  Leonore  stands  out  in  bold  relief  as  the 
perfect  type  of  human  beauty. 

Beethoven  borrowed  the  tones  of  the  Eroica 
from  the  elevating  nature  of  humanitarian 
ideas  transferred  to  the  region  of  public  life. 


THE    EKOICA.  69 


The  hero  enters,  touching  with  giant  hands 
the  foundations  of  human  existence,  which  he 
wants  to  ameliorate  by  renewing  them.  And, 
indeed,  the  First  Consul  of  the  French  Repub- 
lic might  very  well  suggest  to  him,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  this  century,  how  heroes  act,  the 
jubilation  with  which  nations  greet  them, 
how  great  existing  institutions  oppose  their 
progress,  and,  finally,  overthrow  them  in  their 
might.  The  first  movement  of  the  JEroica  de- 
scribes the  most  varied  events  in  the  life  of 
such  a  hero  with  a  fullness  of  episode  almost 
destructive  of  its  form.  In  its  climax,  the  real 
work  of  the  hero  is  seen ;  the  old  order  of 
things  is  heard  crumbling  and  falling  to  pieces 
in  its  powerful  and  terrific  syncopations  and 
dissonant  chords,  to  make  place  for  a  new  ex- 
istence, one  more  worthy  of  human  beings. 
But,  at  the  close  of  the  movement,  the  vic- 
torious hero  exultingly  yokes  the  new  order  of 
things  to  his  chariot.  This  is  history,  the 
world's  history  in  tones ;  and,  for  its  sake,  we 
may  for  the  moment  shroud  the  dearest  long- 
ings of  the  heart  in  the  dark  robes  of  resigna- 
tion. 

Beethoven's  fancy  as  an  artist  fully  compre- 


70  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

bended  the  genius  of  liberty,  at  this  time 
newly  born  into  the  world,  and  a  new  factor 
in  the  history  of  mankind.  He  understood, 
too,  the  tragic  fate  of  all  heroes — that  they  are 
destined,  like  all  other  mortals,  to  fall,  and, 
though  God-commissioned,  to  die,  that  their 
works  may  live  and  prosper.  Bonaparte's 
history  also  suggested  the  rhythm  of  the  sub- 
lime and  solemn  step  of  the  funeral  march ; 
for,  since  the  days  of  Caesar  and  Alexander, 
no  man  had  stepped  as  did  he  through  the 
spaces  of  the  existing  order  of  things.  But 
Beethoven's  poetic  fancy  soared  even  now  far 
beyond  the  reality  that  surrounded  him.  As 
early  as  1802,  he  wrote  to  the  music  dealers  in 
Leipzig,  now  so  well  known  as  the  publishers 
of  the  Edition  Peters:  "Away  with  you  all, 
gentlemen !  To  propose  to  me  to  write  such  a 
sonata!  That  might  have  done  in  the  time 
when  the  Revolution  was  at  fever  heat,  but  now 
that  everything  has  returned  to  the  old  beaten 
path,  that  Bonaparte  has  concluded  a  concordat 
with  the  Pope,  to  write  such  a  sonata — away 
with  you !"  It  is  not  Napoleon,  therefore,  who 
is  here  interred.  It  is  not  Napoleon  for  whom 
mankind  weeps  in  the  tones  of  this  funeral 


THE   EROICA.  71 


march.  It  is  the  ever-living,  ever-awakening 
hero  of  humanity,  the  genius  of  our  race,  that 
is  solemnly  borne  to  the  grave  to  the  rhythm  of 
this  wonderful  march — a  march  which  has  in 
it  something  of  the  tragic  pathos  of  a  Shaks- 
peare  or  an  ^schylus.  Beethoven  in  this 
march  became  a  tragic  writer  of  purely  instru- 
mental music,  and  gave  evidence  of  that  qual- 
ity of  soul  which  made  him  indifferent  to  "the 
slings  and  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune." 

The  two  last  movements  of  the  work  do  not 
convey  so  powerful  an  idea  of  heroic  action. 
Was  it  that  his  powers  of  imagination  flagged, 
or  that  the  change  in  Napoleon's  career  made 
him  disgusted  with  the  hero?  We  know  that 
when,  in  the  spring  of  1804,  the  copy  of  the 
symphony  was  finished — the  title,  proudly 
and  characteristically  enough  bearing  only 
two  names,  "Buonaparte "  at  the  top  and 
"Luigi  van  Beethoven"  at  the  bottom — and 
Beethoven  heard  of  Napoleon's  elevation,  he 
said :  "  Can  it  be  that  he  is  no  more  than  an 
ordinary  man  ?  Now  he,  like  others,  will 
trample  all  human  rights  under  foot,  serve 
only  his  ambition  and  become  a  tyrant."  He 
tore  the  title  page  in  two,  threw  the  work  on 


72  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

the  floor  and  did  not  again  look  at  it  for  a  long 
time.  When  it  appeared  in  1806,  it  was  under 
the  name  of  the  Sinfonia  JEroica,  "  composed 
to  celebrate  the  memory  of  a  great  man." 
It  was  dedicated  to  Prince  Lobkowitz,  who 
purchased  it  and  caused  it  to  be  performed  be- 
fore Prince  Louis  Ferdinand,  in  the  fall  of 
1804.  The  Prince  was  so  delighted  with  it 
that  he  had  it  played  three  times  the  same 
evening  in  immediate  succession,  which  was  a 
very  great  satisfaction  to  Beethoven. 

There  is  a  oneness  of  spirit  in  this  instru- 
mental fresco-painting  of  a  hero  who  strives 
and  suffers  for  the  sake  of  what  is  most  pre- 
cious to  man,  and  in  Beethoven's  only  opera,  the 
Mdelio,  which  made  the  latter  the  natural 
successor  of  the  JEroica.  Florestan  dared 
"  boldly  to  tell  the  truth,"  and  this,  his  enter- 
ing the  lists  for  right  and  freedom,  incites  his 
faithful  wife,  Leonore,  to  a  truly  heroic  deed. 
Disguised  in  male  attire,  she  enters  the  prison, 
and,  just  in  the  nick  of  time,  casts  herself  be- 
tween her  beloved  husband  and  his  murderer. 
Her  cry — which  has  in  it  much  of  the  heroism 
of  death — "  kill  first  his  wife,"  is  a  bit  of 
history  showing  the  enthusiasm  of  the  ideally 


PROMETHEUS.  73 


great,  as  it  is  also  the  most  intense  dramatic 
representation,  in  tones,  of  the  full  energy  of  a 
woman's  love. 

In  a  letter  to  Amenda,  in  1801,  he  wrote  : 
"I  have  composed  music  of  every  description, 
except  operas  and  church  music."  But  even, 
a  short  time  before  this,  he  had  something  to 
do  with  the  theater.  He  had  written  the  ballet 
Prometheus,  which  represents  in  a  sense,  the 
history  of  the  creation  of  man  in  chore- 
graphic  pictures.  The  success  of  this  work 
determined  Schikaneder,  well  known  to  the 
readers  of  the  life  of  Mozart,  and  who,  at  this 
time,  had  the  direction  of  the  newly-built 
theater  in  Vienna,  to  engage  Beethoven  at  a 
large  annual  stipend.  When  this  man,  Schi- 
kaneder, in  the  same  spring  of  1803,  saw  that 
the  oratorio  Christus  am  Oelberg  (Christ  on 
the  Mount  of  Olives)  met  with  good  success, 
although  more  theatrical  than  spiritual  in  its 
character,  he  commissioned  him  to  write  an 
opera  also.  The  subject  was,  probably,  Alex- 
ander— a  very  suitable  one,  considering  Bee- 
thoven's own  heroic  style,  and  his  feeling  at 
the  time.  But  nothing  came  of  it.  There 
can  be  no  doubt,  however,  that  a  piece  which 


74  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

he  had  sketched  and  intended  to  make  a  part 
of  it,  the  duet,  0  Namenlose  Freude  (O 
Nameless  Joy) ,  was  afterwards  embodied  in  the 
Fidelia.  Beethoven  had  received  a  commission 
to  write  the  latter  from  Baron  von  Braun,  who 
had  taken  charge  of  the  theater  in  Vienna,  in 
the  year  1804. 

At  this  time,  both  the  Abbe  Yogler  and 
Cherubini  were  writing  for  the  Viennese.  The 
compositions  of  the  latter  met  with  great  suc- 
cess, and  made  a  powerful  impression  on  Bee- 
thoven. In  these  men  he  met  with  foes  worthy 
of  his  steel,  and  inducements  great  enough  to 
lead  him  to  do  his  very  best.  His  severe  heart 
trials  and  consequent  disappointment  had 
taught  him  how  lonely  he  was  in  the  world. 
Breuning  wrote  of  him  in  1804 :  "  You  have 
no  idea,  my  dear  Wegeler,  how  indescribable; 
and,  I  might  say,  horrible  an  impression  his 
partial  loss  of  hearing  has  made  on  him.  .  .  . 
What  must  be  the  feelings  of  one  with  such  a 
violent  temper,  to  meet  with  such  a  misfortune ! 
And  then  his  reserve,  and  his  distrust  fre- 
quently of  his  best  friend!"  A  subject  like 
that  of  the  Fidelio  must,  of  itself,  have  taken 
strong  hold  of  a  man  like  Beethoven,  because 


THE    FIDELIO.  75 


of  the  powerful  scene  in  which  Leonore  holds 
her  mortal  enemy,  Pizarro,  spell-bound,  with 
the  pistol  in  her  hand.  What  must  have  most 
affected  him  here,  however,  was  the  ideal  back- 
ground of  suffering  for  truth  and  freedom — 
for  Pizarro  was  a  tyrant — and  the  fact  that  a 
woman  had  the  power  that  comes  of  genuine 
fidelity  to  avert  every  danger  from  her  beloved 
husband,  even  at  the  risk  of  her  own  life. 
And  Beethoven  endowed  the  work  with  his 
exalted  and  almost  transfigured  background 
of  feeling,  by  means  of  his  music,  which  here 
depicts  the  constitution  of  his  own  nature,  and 
his  whole  intellectual  build.  He  accurately 
hits  the  decisive  climax  of  the  conflict,  and 
gives  to  the  principal  actors  so  much  of  real 
personal  character,  that  we  cannot  fail  to  re- 
cognize them,  and  to  understand  their  action 
from  their  inner  feelings.  This,  in  connection 
with  a  very  powerful  declamation,  is  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  dramatic  characteristics  which 
we  greet  in  the  Fidelio.  The  development  of 
the  operatic  form  as  such  is  not  further  carried 
on  in  this  work.  In  his  pure  instrumental 
music,  even  more  than  in  the  Fidelio,  Bee- 
thoven has  given  form  to  the  language  of  the 


76  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

soul  and  to  the  great  hidden  springs  of  action 
of  the  world  and  human  nature. 

A  period  may  come  when  stricter  demands 
may  be  made  on  dramatic  art,  and  when,  as  a 
consequence,  this  work  may  not  have  as  much 
charm  as  it  has  for  us,  because  of  its  fragment- 
ary character.  But  be  this  as  it  may,  in  some 
of  its  details  it  will  always  appeal  irresistibly 
to  the  finest  feeling.  We  find  in  it  passages 
like  those  in  Beethoven's  improvisation  which 
never  failed  to  draw  from  his  hearers  tears  of 
real  happiness.  The  greater  part  of  this  lan- 
guage was,  like  Mozart's  Cantilene,  rich  in 
soul.  Yet  melodies  like  Komm  Hoffnung,  lass 
den  letzen  Schein,  In  des  Lebens  Fruehlings- 
tagen  and  0  namen,  namenlose  freude,  are  of 
such  a  character  that  "  humanity  will  never 
forget  them."  Like  the  Holy  Grail,  they  fur- 
nish food  and  light  at  the  same  time,  and,  like 
certain  forces,  produce  a  greater  yield  in  pro- 
portion as  greater  demands  are  made  upon 
them.  We  frequently  find  in  it  expressions 
that  are  simply  inimitable,  and  when  this 
work  is  contemplated  we  see  that  it  bears  evi- 
dence of  a  profundity  of  soul  and  of  a  devel- 
opment of  mind  which  separate — toto  coelo — 


LEONORE.  77 


Beethoven  from  his  predecessors,  Mozart  not 
excepted.  Whole  pieces  in  it  are  full  of  the 
deepest  and  warmest  dramatic  life,  made  up  of 
the  web  and  woof  of  the  human  soul  itself. 
Such,  for  instance,  are  Wir  mussen  gleich  zu 
Werke  schreiten,  the  chorus  of  prisoners,  the 
picture  of  Florestan's  dungeon,  the  digging 
of  the  grave,  and  above  all  the  thrilling 
Toetft  erst  sein  Weib  !  (kill  first  his  wife).  But 
the  center  of  all  is,  as  may  be  seen  from  the 
innumerable  and  most  refined  traits  of  the 
music,  Leonore,  the  pattern  of  heroic  fidelity. 
Her  character  stirred  Beethoven  to  the  very 
depths  of  his  soul,  for  her  power  of  hope  and 
her  devotion  to  freedom  were  his  own.  The 
work  itself  was  to  be  called  Leonore,  as,  indeed, 
the  first  piano-score  was  called  in  1810. 

This  work  has  a  meaning  in  the  life  of  our 
artist  himself,  greater,  almost,  than  its  impor- 
tance as  a  work  of  art. 

The  work  required,  for  its  completion,  only 
the  spring  and  summer  of  the  year  1805.  The 
sketches  of  it  show  how  carefully  the  file  was 
used  on  its  every  part.  Only  the  fire  of  en- 
thusiastic devotion  was  able  to  smelt  the  ore 
of  the  separate  arias,  duets  and  terzettoes 


78  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

which  make  up  the  matter  of  the  whole ;  but 
this  it  could  not  do  here  fully  enough  to  pro- 
duce that  natural  flow  which  dramatic  taste 
even  now  demanded.  Moreover,  the  storm  of 
war  broke  upon  Vienna  and  deprived  Bee- 
thoven's hearers  of  even  the  calm  of  devotion. 
The  result  was  that  only  the  prima  donna 
Milder-Hauptmann  satisfied  the  public  in  the 
character  of  Leonore.  Besides,  Beethoven,  as 
a  composer  of  purely  instrumental  music,  had 
not  paid  sufficient  attention  to  the  demands  of 
the  human  voice.  On  the  13th  of  October, 
1805,  Napoleon  entered  Vienna,  and  after  the 
20th  the  Fidelia  was  repeated  three  times; 
not,  however,  before  the  art  lovers  of  Vienna, 
but  before  an  audience  composed  of  French 
officers.  It  was  received  with  little  applause, 
and  after  the  first  performance  the  house 
remained  empty.  Beethoven  withdrew  the 
work.  But  even  the  critics  missed  in  it  at  this 
time  "that  certain  splendor  of  originality 
characteristic  of  Beethoven's  works."  Our 
artist's  friends  now  gathered  about  him  to 
induce  him  to  make  some  abbreviations  in  the 
opera.  This  was  at  the  house  of  Lichnowsky. 
Beethoven  was  never  before  seen  so  much 


LEONORE   OVERTURE.  79 

excited,  and  were  it  not  for  the  prayers  and 
entreaties  of  the  gentle  and  tender  Princess 
Christiane,  he  would  certainly  have  agreed  to 
nothing.  He  consented  at  last  to  drop  a  few 
numbers,  but  it  took  six  full  hours  to  induce 
him  to  do  even  this.  It  is  easy  to  explain  this 
fact :  the  work  was  the  pet  child  of  his  brain. 
Breuning  now  re-arranged  the  libretto.  He 
made  the  acting  more  vivacious  and  Beethoven 
shortened  the  several  pieces  still  more.  The 
work  proved  more  acceptable  to  the  pub- 
lic, but  Beethoven  thought  himself  surround- 
ed by  a  network  of  intrigue,  and,  as  he  had 
agreed  only  for  a  share  in  the  profits,  he  once 
more  withdrew  the  work.  We  hear  no  more 
of  it  until  1814.  We  shall  see  what  effect  its 
production  had  when  we  reach  that  date  in 
Beethoven's  life. 

But  this  re-arrangement  led  to  a  new  over- 
ture and  to  a  new  poetical  expression  of  the 
subject,  to  the  great  Leonoren-  Overture^ known 
as  No.  3,  but  which  is  properly  No.  2.  Bee- 
thoven, in  this  overture,  lets  us  hear,  as  if  in 
the  voices  of  thousands,  the  depth  of  pain  in 
Florestan's  dungeon  ;  the  glance  of  hope  that 
flashes  across  his  mind  when  he  thinks  of  his 


80  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Leonore ;  the  struggle  of  love  with  native  fear 
in  the  heart  of  the  woman ;  her  daring  risk  of 
her  own  life  for  her  beloved  husband,  and  in 
the  signal  of  trumpets,  the  coming  of  her  res- 
cuer; the  calm  joy  of  the  unutterably  happy 
husband,  as  well  as  the  boisterous,  stormy  joy 
of  the  prisoners,  all  of  whom  get  their  liberty 
with  this  one  slave ;  and,  last  of  all,  the  loud- 
est song  of  praise  of  freedom  and  happiness. 
The  symphonic  poem,  Leonore,  as  a  whole,  far 
surpasses  the  dramatic  work  itself.  Together 
with  the  Eroica,  it  is  the  second  monumental 
work  of  Beethoven's  genius  in  this  early 
period  of  his  musical  creations,  and  proves  him 
a  matured  master  in  his  art. 

The  proud  path  thus  entered  on,  he  never 
left. 

Besides  the  works  already  mentioned,  we 
may,  for  the  sake  of  completeness,  mention  the 
following  likewise:  The  Opferlied  (1st  arrange- 
ment), Seufzen  eines  Unbeliebten,  variations 
quantfe  piu  bello,  about  1795;  variations  toJVel 
cor  piu  and  minuet  a  la  Vigano  which  appeared 
in  1796;  sonata  op.  49, 1,  about  1796;  sonata 
for  four  hands  op.  6,  the  rondo  op.  51,  I,  and 
variations  to  a  Russian  dance,  in  1797;  varia- 


COMPOSITIONS.  81 


tions  to  a  Swiss  song  and  Mich  brennt,  1798 ; 
Gretels  Warnung,  La  partenza,  composed  in 
1798;  variations  to  the  La  stessa,  Kind  willst 
du  and  Taendeln  und  Scherzen,  which 
appeared  in  1799 ;  sonata  op.  49,  I,  composed 
in  1799 ;  variations  in  G  major,  composed  in 
1800,  serenade  op.  25;  rondo,  op.  51,  I;  vari- 
ations, Bei  Maennern  which  appeared  in  1802; 
terzetto  op.  116,  sonatas  for  violin,  op.  30, 
variations  op.  34  and  35,  composed  in  1802 ; 
Glueck der  Freundsckaf^op.  88  audZaertliche 
Liebe  which  appeared  in  1803;  trio  variations 
op.  44  and  romance  for  the  violin,  op.  40,  com- 
posed in  1803 ;  three  marches  op.  45,  varia- 
tions to  "Rule  Brittannia,"  and  the  Wachtel- 
schlag,  1804 ;  sonata  op.  53,  together  with  the 
andante  in  F  major,  originally  belonging  to  it, 
the  triple  concerto  op.  56,  and  the  sonata  op. 
57,  hegunin  1804,  Andie  Hoffnung,  op.  32  and 
trio  op.  38,  which  appeared  in  1805 ;  fourth 
concerto  op.  58,  composed  in  1805 ;  trio  op.  36, 
sonata  op.  34,  which  appeared  in  1806;  Emp- 
findungen  bei  Lydiens  Untreue  belonging 
probably  to  1806. 
6 


CHAPTER  III. 

1806-1812. 

THE  SYMPHONY  C  MINOR— THE  PASTORALE  AND 
THE  SEVENTH  SYMPHONIES. 

The  Pastorale — Its  Composition — Meaning  of  the  Apassionata 
— Its  History — Beethoven's  Letter  to  His  "  Immortal  Loved 
One" — His  Own  Opinion  of  .the  Apassionata — New  Ac- 
quaintances— Thinks  of  Writing  Operas — Court-theater 
Composer — Overture  to  Coriolanus — The  Mass  in  C.,  op. 
86 — His  Sacred  Music — The  Fidelio  in  Prague — Music 
for  Goethe's  Faust — "Power,  the  Moral  Code" — Power 
Expressed  in  Beethoven's  Music — Character  of  His  Works 
about  this  Period — Intercourse  with  the  Malfattis — The 
Cello  Sonata,  op.  69 — Other  Compositions  and  their  Mean- 
ing— Improvement  in  His  Pecuniary  Circumstances — 
Joseph  Bonaparte — Vienna  Fears  to  Lose  Him — Contem- 
plated Journey  to  England — The  Seventh  Symphony — 
Wagner  on  the  Seventh  Symphony — His  Hierathspartie 
— His  Letter  to  Bettina — His  Estimate  of  Genius. 

BEETHOVEN'S  Heilegenstadt  Will,  written 
in  the  year  1802,  closed  with  this  painful  ap- 
peal :  "  O  thou,  Providence,  let  one  day  more 
of  joy  dawn  on  me.  How  long  have  I  been  a 
stranger  to  the  heartfelt  echo  of  true  happi- 
ness! When,  when,  O  God,  can  I  feel  it  once 
more  in  the  temple  of  nature  and  of  man. 
(82) 


THE   PASTORALE.  83 

Never  ?  No  !  O,  that  were  too  hard !"  Our 
artist's  thoughts  were  thus  directed  into  chan- 
nels which  carried  him  far  from  the  scenes 
immediately  surrounding  him  into  regions  of 
a  higher  existence^-of  an  existence  which  he 
soon  described  so  exquisitely  in  the  language 
of  music.  The  Pastorale  which  celebrates  this 
"  Temple  of  nature"  was  originally  designated 
as  No.  5,  and  was,  therefore,  intended  to  be 
completed  before  the  symphony  in  C  minor. 
But  it  would  seem  that  Beethoven  had  to  go 
through  many  an  internal  conflict,  the  result 
of  his  great  depression  of  spirits,  before  he 
could  acquire  the  calmness  of  mind  necessary 
to  form  a  proper  conception  of  the  "  Peace  of 
God  in  Nature,"  and  to  give  it  proper  form 
and  expression  in  art. 

Breuning  wrote,  on  the  2nd  of  June,  1806, 
that  the  intrigues  about  the  Fidelia  were  all 
the  more  disagreeable  to  Beethoven  because 
the  fact  that  it  had  not  been  performed  reduced 
him  to  some  pecuniary  straits,  and  that  it 
would  take  all  the  longer  time  for  him  to  re- 
cover, as  the  treatment  he  had  received  de- 
prived him  of  a  great  deal  of  his  love  for  his 
work.  Yet  the  first  of  the  quartets,  op.  59, 


84  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

bears  the  memorandum :  "  Begun  on  the  26th 
of  May,  1806;"  and  the  fourth  symphony 
(op.  60),  as  well  as  the  violin  concerto  (op. 
61),  also  belong  to  this  year.  In  the  mean- 
time op.  56,  which  had  been  begun  some  time 
previous,  the  triple  concerto,  op.  57,  called  the 
Apassionata,  and  op.  58,  the  fourth  concerto, 
were  all  either  continued  or  finished.  What 
wealth  there  is  here — in  the  number  of  com- 
positions, in  their  magnitude  and  in  their  con- 
tents !  The  three  quartets  are  dedicated  to 
Count  Rasumowsky,  who  had  given  Beethoven 
the  commission  to  write  them,  and  who  had 
furnished  the  Russian  melodies  on  which  they 
are  based.  How  well  the  adagio  of  the  second 
of  them  points  us  to  that  higher  region  in 
which  Beethoven  now  felt  himself  more  and 
more  at  home.  He  himself  told  Czerny  that 
that  adagio  suggested  itself  to  him  one  night, 
when  he  was  contemplating  the  starry  heavens, 
and  thinking  of  the  harmony  of  the  spheres. 
In  the  serene  calmness  of  these  vanishing 
tones,  we  see  the  revolution  of  the  stars 
mirrored  in  all  its  grandeur.  Here  all 
pain  seems  lightened,  all  passion  stilled. 
Yet  how  both  had  raged  even  in  the  Apas- 


THE   AP  ASSIGN  ATA.  85 

sionata,  the  draft  of  which  is  to  be  found 
immediately  following  that  of  the  Fidelio. 
The  Apassionata  is  written  in  his  heart- 
blood.  Its  tones  are  cries  of  excitement  the 
most  painful.  It  was  finished  in  the  summer, 
and  dedicated  to  Count  Franz  Brunswick. 
An  oil  painting  of  the  count's  sister,  Countess 
Theresa,  was  found  among  Beethoven's  effects, 
after  his  death.  It  bore  the  superscription : 
"  To  the  rare  genius,  the  great  artist,  the  good 
man.  From  T.  B."  It  is  supposed  that  the 
letter  to  his  "  immortal  love,"  already  referred 
to,  was  addressed  to  her — and  it  is  truly  a 
letter  which  gives  us  a  pen-picture  of  Bee- 
thoven's condition  of  mind  at  that  time,  and 
which  affords  an  idea  of  the  "  gigantic  sweep 
of  his  ideas."  It  was  found  after.his  death,  to- 
gether with  other  important  papers,  in  an  old 
chest,  and  is  dated  on  July  6,  from  a  watering 
place  in  Hungary.  It  is  rightly  supposed  to 
have  been  written  in  the  year  1806,  in  which 
Beethoven  paid  a  visit  to  the  Brunswicks.  But, 
be  this  as  it  may,  it  gives  evidence  of  intense 
feeling,  and  shows  that  Beethoven  now  dwelt 
on  that  sublime  height  on  which  all  earthly 
desires  are  silent.  It  seems  also  to  lead  us 


86  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

over  to  the  understanding  and  appreciation  of 
Beethoven's  subsequent  creations,  which  hence- 
forth gain  an  ideal  character  not  of  this  earth. 
We  can  here  touch  only  on  the  principal  points 
in  these  letters. 

"  My  angel,  my  all,  my  other  self."  Thus  does  he 
begin  it  on  the  6th  of  July,  in  the  morning.  He  pro- 
ceeds:  "  Only  a  few  words  to-day,  and  those  in  lead- 
pencil,  and  that  your  own  pencil,  dear.  Nothing  can 
be  settled  about  my  dwelling  until  to-morrow.  What 
a  wretched  loss  of  time  for  such  trifles!  Why 
this  deep  affliction  where  necessity  speaks?  How 
can  our  love  continue  to  exist  except  through  sacrifice, 
except  by  limitation  of  our  desires?  Can  you  change 
the  fact  that  you  are  not  entirely  mine  nor  I  entirely 
yours?  Look  out  on  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  re- 
sign yourself  to  what  must  be.  Love  asks  everything, 
and  rightly  so.  It  does  in  my  case.  It  does  in  your 
case.  But  you  forget  too  easily  that  I  have  to  live  for 
you  as  well  as  for  myself.  Were  we  entirely  one,  you 
would  feel  the  pain  there  is  in  this  as  little  as  I.  ... 

We  shall,  I  trust,  soon  meet I  cannot  tell  you 

to-day  what  reflections  I  have  made  upon  my  life, 
during  the  past  forty-eight  hours.  Were  our  hearts 
always  close  to  one  another,  I  am  sure  I  should  make 
no  such  reflections.  My  heart  is  too  full  to  tell  you 
much.  There  are  moments  when  I  find  that  language 
is  nothing  at  all.  Cheer  up  ;  be  my  faithful,  my  only 
pet,  my  all,  as  I  am  all  yours.  The  gods  must  direct 
the  rest  in  our  lives.  Thy  faithful  LUDWIG." 


HIS   LOVE.  87 

But,  on  the  same  dainty  little  piece  of  note 
paper,  he  continues,  for  the  mail  had  already 
left: 

"  You  suffer,  dearest  creature.  Wherever  I  am, 
you  are  with  me.  I  must  try  to  so  arrange  it  that  our 
life  may  be  one.  But  what,  what  a  life  to  be  thus 
without  you!  I  am  pursued  by  the  kindness  of  men 
which  I  do  not  intend  to  earn,  and  yet,  which  I  really 
do  earn.  That  a  man  should  humble  himself  before 
his  fellow  man,  pains  me  ;  and  when  I  consider  myself 
as  a  part  of  the  universe,  what  am  I,  and  who  is  He 
they  call  the  Most  High?  And  yet  here,  again,  we 

find  the   divine  in  that  which  is  human No 

matter  how  great  your  love  for  me,  my  love  for  you  is 
greater  still.  Never  hide  yourself  from  me.  Good 
night  1  Being  an  invalid,  I  must  go  to  sleep.  Alas, 
that  I  should  be  so  near  and  yet  so  far  from  you.  Is 
not  our  love  a  real  firmament  of  heaven?  And  is  it 
not  as  firm  as  the  foundation  of  the  heavens?" 

He  takes  up  the  same  piece  of  paper  once 
more  : 

"  Good  morning,  this  7th  of  July!  Even  before  I  rise 
my  thoughts  fly  to  you,  dear — to  you,  immortal  love,  now 
joyfully,  now  sadly,  waiting  to  see  whether  the  fates  will 
hear  our  prayer.  If  I  shall  live  at  all,  it  must  be  with 
you.  I  am  resolved  to  wander  about  far  away  from 
you,  until  the  time  comes  when  I  may  fly  into  your 
arms,  and  say  that  I  belong  to  you  ;  until  I  may  send 
my  soul  absolved  by  you,  dear,  into  the  land  of  spirits. 


88  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Yes,  unfortunately  it  must  be  so.  You  will  be  all  the 
more  composed,  since  you  know  how  faithful  I  am  to 
you.  Another  can  never  possess  my  heart — never  ! 
Why,  O  God,  must  a  man  be  so  widely  separated  from 
the  object  of  his  love?  And  yet  the  life  I  now  live  in 
Vienna  is  so  wretched !  Your  love  makes  me,  at 
once,  the  happiest  and  the  most  unfortunate  of  men. 
At  my  present  age,  there  should  be  some  uniformity 
in  my  life;  but  is  such  a  thing  possible  in  my  present 
circumstances?  Be  patient.  Only  by  the  patient 
contemplation  of  our  existence  can  we  gain  our  object 
and  live  united.  Be  patient !  love  me!  How  I  longed 
and  wept  for  you  to-day  and  yesterday;  you,  my  life, 
myall!  Farewell;  love  me  ever,  never  forget  the  most 
faithful  heart  of  thy  beloved  Ludwig.  I  am  ever  thine 
and  thou  forever  mine." 

How  completely  like  Beethoven!  It  was 
during  this  very  summer  that  he  completed 
the  Apassionata,  which  he  always  considered 
the  greatest  of  his  sonatas,  at  the  home  of  the 
Brunswicks.  Can  it  be  said  that  its  language 
is  in  anything  greater  than  the  language  of 
this  letter  ?  He  seems  at  this  time  to  be  nearly 
always  possessed  by  a  feeling  of  melancholy. 
But  for  this  very  reason  he  took  refuge  more 
than  ever  in  music.  It  was,  indeed,  a  real 
sanctuary -to  him,  and  he  refused  to  open  that 
sanctuary  to  the  eyes  of  strangers,  and,  least  of 
all,  to  the  eyes  of  enemies.  This  he  very 


LICHNOWSKY.  89 


plainly  proved  to  Prince  Lichuowsky  during 
the  fall.  Beethoven  had  left  Hungary  and 
was  spending  some  time  in  Silesia  with  the 
prince.  The  latter  desired  him  to  play  for 
some  French  officers  who  were  quartered  in  his 
castle.  A  violent  scene  immediately  ensued. 
After  it  was  over,  Beethoven  left  the  castle. 
He  refused  to  go  back  with  the  prince  who  had 
followed  him,  but  repaired,  post  haste,  back  to 
Vienna,  in  which  city  the  prince's  bust  was 
broken  to  pieces  as  an  expiatory  sacrifice.  It 
was  not  long,  however,  before  the  old  friend- 
ship of  the  two  was  re-established. 

In  the  quartet  sketches  of  this  year,  we  find 
the  words:  "Just  as  you  can  cast  yourself  here 
into  the  whirl  of  society,  it  is  possible  to  write 
operas  spite  of  all  social  impediment?.  Let 
the  fact  that  you  do  not  hear  be  a  mystery  no 
longer,  even  in  your  music."  This  "  whirl  of 
society  "  introduces  us  to  some  new  acquaint- 
ances. Count  Rasumowsky  held  very  bril- 
liant soirees,  at  which  the  amiable  and  charm- 
ing wife  of  his  librarian,  Marie  Bigot,  per- 
formed some  of  Beethoven's  works  in  an  ex- 
quisite manner.  The  playing  of  the  elegar-t 
and  handsome  Countess  Marie  Erdoedy,  whom 


90  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Beethoven  himself  called  his  "  father  con- 
fessor," was  not  inferior  to  that  of  Madame 
Bigot.  Other  patrons  of  the  musical  art  were 
Madame  Dorothea  von  Ertmann,  a  charming 
Frankfort  lady,  and  the  Malfattis,one  of  whom 
was  Beethoven's  physician.  The  home  of 
Streicher,  who  had  married  Nanette  Stein, 
daughter  of  the  Augsbury  piano-maker,  de- 
scribed in  Mozart's  letter  of  1777  in  so  droll 
a  manner,  was  the  rendezvous  of  lovers  of 
music.  Nor  must  we  forget  to  mention  Prince 
Lobkowitz  and  the  Emperor's  youngest  brother, 
the  Archduke  Rudolph,  Beethoven's  distin- 
guished pupil,  who,  as  our  artist  himself  ad- 
mitted, understood  music  thoroughly. 

The  chief  value,  however,  of  the  works 
quoted  above,  is  that  they  inform  us  how 
Beethoven,  spite  of  his  experience  with  the 
Fidelio,  was  thinking  very  seriously  of  the 
writing  of  "operas."  If  successful  here,  his 
fortune  was  made,  and  there  was  nothing  then 
to  hinder  the  crowning  of  his  love  by  mar- 
riage. There  now  seemed  to  be  a  very  good 
prospect  of  that  success,  for,  in  the  year  1807, 
the  two  court-theaters  passed  into  the  hands 
of  a  company  of  noblemen,  with  Lobkowitz  at 


COURT   COMPOSER.  91 

their  head.  Lobkowitz  immediately  called 
upon  Beethoven  to  act  as  composer  for  the 
Court-theater.  Our  artist  accepted  the  posi- 
tion, and  bound  himself  to  write  at  least  one 
great  opera  and  operatta  each  year,  and  to  sup- 
ply whatever  other  music  might  be  needed.  A 
feeling  of  inexhaustible  power  must  have  in- 
spired him  at  this  time,  when  he  was  actuated 
by  the  tenderest  love,  with  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  self.  A  forcible  proof  of  this  is  the 
overture  which  he  then  wrote  to  Collins's  Cor- 
iolanus.  But  the  gentlemen  did  not  accede  to 
his  wishes ;  they  did  not  want  to  trust  him  as 
composer  of  instrumental  music  in  this  point ; 
and  thus  Beethoven,  although  not  particularly 
pleased  by  the  action  of  his  princely  friends, 
was,  fortunately  for  himself  and  for  us,  re- 
tained in  the  field  of  labor  most  in  harmony 
with  his  disposition. 

"  If  it  be  true  that  genuine  strength  and  a 
fullness  of  deep  feeling  characterize  the  Ger- 
mans, we  must  say  that  Beethoven  was,  above 
all,  a  German  artist.  In  this,  his  most  recent 
work,  we  cannot  but  admire  the  expressiveness 
and  depth  of  his  music,  which  so  grandly 
painted  the  wild,  perturbed  mind  of  Coriola- 


92  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

nus,  and  the  sudden  and  terrible  change  in  his 
fate,  while  it  elicited  the  sublimest  emotion." 
These  lines  are  from  an  account  of  a  concert 
given  in  the  Augarten  by  Lichnowsky  in  the 
spring  of  1807.  But  we  have  very  reliable  in- 
formation that  Beethoven  was  now  engaged  on 
the  symphony  in  C  minor  and  on  the  Pastor- 
ale. Thanks  to  Clementi,  who  was  doing  a 
large  and  thriving  music  business  in  London, 
and  to  his  old  friend  Simrock,  in  Bonn,  which 
was  French  at  the  time,  he  felt  at  his  ease  so 
far  as  money  matters  were  concerned.  He 
writes  to  Brunswick  on  the  llth  of  May,  1807: 
"I  can  now  hope  to  be  able,  in  a  few  years,  to 
maintain  the  dignity  of  a  real  artist."  And 
when,  in  the  same  letter,  we  read  the  farther 
passage,  "  Kiss  your  sister  Theresa.  Tell 
her  that  I  fear  that  I  shall  become  great 
without  a  monument,  to  which  she  has  con- 
tributed," we  can  understand  how  love,  fame 
and  lofty  intuition  conspired  to  fit  him  for  new 
and  mighty  exploits  in  art. 

The  next  work  published  by  Beethoven  was 
the  Mass  in  C,  op.  86,  which  Esterhazy  gave 
him  a  commission  to  write.  But  here  Bee- 
thoven, even  more  than  in  opera,  missed  the 


HIS   MASS.  93 


spirit  of  his  subject.  The  Mass  bears  witness 
to  his  intellect,  and  has  all  the  charms  of 
sound ;  but  it  is  not  a  religious  composition. 
When  Beethoven  himself  wrote  to  Esterhazy, 
as  he  did  at  this  time :  "Shall  I  tell  you  that 
it  is  not  without  many  misgivings  that  I  shall 
send  you  the  Mass,  for  I  know  you  are  ac- 
customed to  have  the  inimitable  works  of  the 
great  Haydn  performed  for  you,"  he  proves 
that  he  did  not  understand  the  real  spirit  of 
church  music;  for  Haydn  had,  just  as  little  as 
Beethoven,  a  true  conception  of  what  church 
music  is.  Haydn  was  now  seventy-six  years 
old,  and  Beethoven  attended  a  performance  of 
his  Creation  the  following  year,  and,  with  a 
number  of  the  distinguished  nobility,  received 
the  celebrated  guest  at  the  door.  The  fame 
of  the  man  whom  he  was  thus  called  upon  to 
honor,  was  a  type  of  what  his  own  was  des- 
tined one  day  to  be.  And  what  his  own  fame 
would  be,  the  production  of  the  great  works 
he  had  recently  finished,  must  have  enabled 
him  to  foresee.  When  the  Mass  was  per- 
formed, in  September,  1807,  in  Eisenstadt,  our 
composer  had  a  personal  falling  out — the  re- 
sult of  a  misunderstanding — with  Mozart's 


94  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

pupil,  Hummel;  and  one  which  was  not  made 
up  for  for  some  years.  The  prince  had  criticised 
Beethoven's  Mass  by  asking  the  strange  ques- 
tion :  "  But,  my  dear  Beethoven,  what  have 
you  been  doing  now?"  Hummel  could  not 
help  laughing  at  this  strange  mode  of  criti- 
cism. Beethoven  supposed  he  was  laughing 
at  his  work;  and  after  this  would  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  the  prince. 

It  was  otherwise  with  the  magnanimous, 
noble  lover  of  art,  Prince  Lobkowitz,  one  of  the 
principal  grandees  of  Bohemia,  and  one  of  the 
principal  patrons  of  the  theater.  To  him  Bee- 
thoven was  indebted  for  the  suggestion  that  the 
Fidelio  should  be  performed  in  Prague.  For 
the  occasion,  Beethoven  wrote,  in  this  year, 
1807,  the  overture,  op.  138,  which  is,  there- 
fore, to  be  accounted  not  the  second,  but  the 
third  Leonore  overture.  The  performance  of 
the  Fidelio,  however,  did  not  take  place  until 
1814,  the  same  year  in  which  it  was  performed 
in  Vienna.  In  the  following  summer  (1808) ,  it 
was  publicly  announced  that  "  the  gifted  Bee- 
thoven had  conceived  the  idea  to  put  Goethe's 
Faust  to  music,  as  soon  as  he  could  find  any 
one  to  prepare  it  for  the  stage."  The  first 


HIS    POWER.  95 


part  of  Faust  had  appeared  in  1807,  as  a 
"  tragedy ;"  and,  as  we  shall  see,  the  poem 
made  a  deep  impression  on  our  artist.  Long 
after,  and  even  on  his  death-bed,  it  occupied 
his  thoughts.  But  he  had,  even  now,  written 
some  Faust  music — the  symphony  in  C  minor. 
To  it  we  now  turn,  for  it  is  one  of  the  greatest 
of  Beethoven's  creations. 

We  have  seen  how  Beethoven  himself  on^e 
said :  "  Power  is  the  moral  code  of  men  who 
distinguish  themselves  above  others."  And 
so  we  hear  how  one  person  described  him  as 
"  power  personified ;"  how  another  said  of  him 
that  "a  Jupiter  occasionally  looked  out  through 
his  eyes :"  and  a  third,  that  "  his  magnificent 
forehead  was  the  seat  of  majestic,  creative 
power."  Spurred  on  by  the  opposition  of 
"  fate,"  that  is,  by  what  nature  had  denied  him, 
we  see  this  power  appear  in  all  its  concentra- 
tion and  sublimity.  The  power  which  has 
created,  and  which  preserves  all  things,  has 
been  called  "  will,"  and  music,  one  of  its  im- 
mediate phenomena,  while  the  other  arts  are 
only  reflections  of  that  will,  and  reflect  only 
the  things  of  the  world.  In  the  first  move- 
ment of  the  symphony  in  C  minor,  we  feel 


96  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

the  presence  of  this  power  or  personal  will,  to 
an  extent  greater  than  in  any  other  work  of 
art.  It  there  appears  in  fullest  action,  in  all 
its  nobility.  The  symphony  might  not  inap- 
propriately have  been  called  the  Jupiter-sym- 
phony ;  for  it  is  a  veritable  head  of  Jove,  such 
as  only  a  Phidias  could  have  imagined.  Mel- 
ody has  been  described  as  the  history  of  the 
will  illuminated  by  reason,  and  the  sonata- 
form  of  the  symphony  is  just  such  kind  of 
melody.  And  it  is  this  fifth  symphony  of 
Beethoven's,  which,  more  than  any  other,  tells 
us  the  most  secret  history  of  that  personal 
will,  of  all  its  strivings  and  motions.  No 
type  in  any  art,  could  have  suggested  a  Siegfried 
to  Richard  Wagner.  Here  Beethoven's  genius 
acts  as  force,  as  will,  and  as  the  conscious  intel- 
ligence of  the  prototype  of  the  Great  Spirit. 
Yet  when  the  work  was  performed  in  Paris, 
Hector  Berlioz  heard  his  teacher,  Lessieur,  say 
of  it — and  this,  although  he  was  deeply  moved 
by  it — "  but  such  music  should  not  be  heard." 
"Don't  be  afraid,"  was  the  reply,  "there  will 
be  little  of  that  kind  of  music  written."  How 
correct  was  the  insight  of  the  gifted  French- 
man! Siegfried's  Rheinfahrt,  in  the  Goetter- 
daemmerung,  is  music  of  "that  kind." 


C   MINOK   SYMPHONY.  97 

But  it  is  only  the  night  of  sorrow  that  gives 
birth  to  the  concentration  of  power.  It  is  only 
by  great  effort  that  this  energy  can  be  main- 
tained. And  as  Coriolanus  finely  presses  all  the 
darts  aimed  at  him  by  his  mother  into  her 
own  heart,  in  defying  sacrifice,  so  we  find,  in 
the  background  of  this  holiest  and  most  manly 
will,  the  consciousness  of  the  variety  and 
transitory  character  of  all  things.  In  his 
heart  of  hearts,  Beethoven  feels  that  fate  has 
knocked  at  his  door,  only  because  in  his  fol- 
lowing the  dictates  of  force  and  action,  he  has 
sinned  against  nature,  and  that  all  will  is  only 
transitoriness  and  self-deception.  The  adagio 
expresses  subjection  to  a  higher  will.  The 
consciousness  of  this  highest  act  of  the  will, 
to  sacrifice  one's  self  and  yet  to  preserve  one's 
freedom,  gave  birth  to  the  song  of  jubilation 
in  the  finale  which  tells  not  of  the  joy  and 
sorrow  of  one  heart  only;  it  lifts  the  freedom 
which  has  been  praised  and  sought  for  into  the 
higher  region  of  moral  will.  Thus  the  sym- 
phony in  C  minor  has  a  significance  greater  than 
any  mere  "  work  of  art."  Like  the  production 
of  religious  art,  it  is  a  representation  of  those 
secret  forces  which  hold  the  world  together. 
7 


98  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

The  consciousness  of  this  deeper,  intimate 
dependence  of  all  things  on  one  another,  is 
henceforth  seen  like  a  glimmer  of  light  in  the 
darkness  which  gathered  around  him,  and  it 
continues  to  beautify  and  transfigure  his  crea- 
tions. 

The  Pastorale  immediately  followed  the 
symphony  in  C  minor.  It  gives  expression 
to  the  peace  of  nature  and  to  the  fulfillment  of 
the  saying:  "Look  out  on  the  beauties  of  na- 
ture and  calm  your  soul  by  the  contemplation 
of  what  must  be."  While  the  fourth  sym- 
phony compared  with  the  fifth,  is  a  symphony 
and  nothing  more — even  if  it  be  Beethoven's 
— we  plainly  discover  in  this  sixth,  the  poetic 
spirit,  the  pure  feeling  of  God.  The  idea  and 
character  it  illustrates  constitutes  in  Beethov- 
en's life  the  transition  from  the  external  beauty 
of  nature  to  the  comprehension  of  the  eternal. 
Over  it  is  written:  "Recollections  of  country 
life,"  but  also,  "  More  an  expression  of  feeling 
than  a  painting."  "  The  Beethovens  loved 
the  Rhine,"  the  young  playmates  of  the  boy 
Ludwig  were  wont  to  say,  and  he  wrote  him- 
self to  Wegeler:  "Before  me  is  the  beautiful 
region  in  which  I  first  saw  the  light  as  plainly 


THE    PASTORALE.  99 

and  as  beautiful  as  the  moment  I  left  you." 
On  a  leaf,  written  in  his  own  hand,  we  find 
the  words:  "O  the  charm  of  the  woods — who 
can  express  it  ?  "  But  now  that  he  was  com- 
pelled to  live  a  solitary  life,  nature  became  to 
him  a  mother,  sister  and  sweetheart.  He 
looked  upon  the  wonders  of  nature  as  into 
living  eyes;  she  calmed  him  who  was  natural- 
ly of  such  a  stormy  temperament,  and  to  whom 
life  had  been  unkind  in  so  many  ways.  In 
the  Scene  am  Bach  (Scene  by  the  Brook),  the 
waters  murmur  peace  to  his  soul;  and  the 
birds  by  the  brooklet,  in  Heiligenstadt,  where 
these  two  symphonies  were  finished,  whisper 
joy.  His  Lustige  Zusamnensein  der  Land- 
lent  e,  infuses  new  courage  into  the  heart,  and 
when  his  Gewitter  und  Sturm,  tells  of  the 
might  of  the  Eternal,  the  shepherds  express 
their  joyful  and  grateful  feelings  in  the  words: 
Herr  wir  danken  dir.  The  finale,  like  the 
Chorphantasie  (op.  80),  planned  in  1800  but 
not  finished  until  1808,  was  intended  to  con- 
tain a  chorus  expressing  in  words  the  joyful 
and  thankful  feeling  of  the  people.  Beethov- 
en's own  personal  experience  is  always  ex- 
pressed in  his  music.  A  more  intimate 


100  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

acquaintance  with  nature  gave  it  to  him  to 
find  yet  deeper  expression  for  the  feelings 
which  it  excites  in  our  hearts,  as  its  everlast- 
ing change  enabled  him  to  conceive  the  eternal 
and  imperishable. 

We  now  turn  to  a  whole  series  of  new  and 
brilliant  creations  of  our  hero.  It  would  seem 
as  if  his  intercourse  with  the  eternal  in  nature 
had  given  him  new  life. 

During  these  years,  Beethoven's  intimacy 
with  the  Malfattis  and  their  two  charming 
daughters,  was  a  great  source  of  pleasure  to 
him.  His  feelings  towards  them  may  be  in- 
ferred from  the  following  passages  in  his  notes 
to  his  friend  Gleichenstein.  He  writes  :  "  I 
feel  so  well  when  I  am  with  them  that  they 
seem  able  to  heal  the  wounds  which  bad  men 
have  inflicted  on  my  heart."  .  ..."  I  expect 
to  find  there  in  the  Wilden  Mann  in  the  park, 
no  wild  men,  but  beautiful  graces."  And 
again  :  "  My  greetings,  to  all  who  are  dear  to 
you  and  to  me.  How  gladly  would  I  add — 
and  to  whom  we  are  dear  ?  ?  ?  ?  These  points 
of  interrogation  are  becoming,  at  least  in  me." 
Gleichenstein  married  the  second  daughter, 
Anna  Malfatti,  in  1811.  To  the  young  dark- 


HIS   SOCIETY.  101 


eyed  Theresa,  who  made  her  debut  in  society 
about  this  time,  and  whom  he  writes  of  as 
"  volatile,  taking  everything  in  life  lightly  " 
but  "  with  so  much  feeling  for  all  that  is  beau- 
tiful and  good,  and  a  great  talent  for  music," 
he  sends  a  sonata,  and  recommends  Goethe's 
Wilhelm  Meister  and  Schlegel's  translation  of 
Shakspeare.  We  thus  see  that  his  intercourse 
with  the  family  had  that  intellectual  founda- 
tion which  Beethoven  could  not  dispense  with, 
on  anything.  It  would  even  seein  as  if,  in  his 
enthusiasm  to  put  his  strength  to  the  test  of 
new  deeds,  even  his  "  eternal  loved  one " 
should  fade  from  his  view. 

The  cello-sonata  (op.  69)  dedicated  to  his 
friend  Gleichenstein  immediately  followed  the 
Pastorale.  The  two  magnificent  trios  dedi- 
cated to  Countess  Erdoedy,  with  whom  he 
resided  at  this  time,  follow  as  op.  70.  The 
first  movement  of  the  trio  in  D  major  is  a 
brilliantly  free  play  of  mind  and  force,  while 
the  adagio  suggests  Faust  lost  in  the  deep 
contemplation  of  nature  and  its  mysteries. 
The  whole,  on  account  of  the  mysterious  awe 
expressed  by  this  movement  has  been  called  by 
musicians  the  Fledermaustrio,  i.  e.,  the  bat- 


102  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

trio.  The  Leonore  is  numbered  op.  72.  It 
was  published  in  1810.  Op.  73,  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  concertos,  was  dedicated  to  the 
Archduke  Rudolph.  We  have  further,  op. 
74,  the  harp-quartet,  dedicated  to  Prince 
Lobkouitz,and  the  fantasia  for  the  piano,  op. 
77,  to  his  friend  Brunswick ;  lastly,  the  sonata 
in  F  sharp  major,  op.  78,  very  highly  valued 
by  Beethoven  himself,  dedicated  to  his  sister 
Theresa.  Verily  "new  acts"  enough,  and 
what  glorious  deeds  ! 

This  brings  us  to  the  year  1809,  which  wit- 
nessed a  change  for  the  better  in  Beethoven's 
pecuniary  circumstances.  He  now  received  a 
permanent  salary.  On  the  1st  of  November^ 
1808,  he  wrote  to  the  Silesian  Count,  Oppers- 
dorf, — whom  he  had  visited  in  the  fall  of  18Q6} 
in  company  with  Lichnowsky,  and  who  gave 
him  a  commission  to  write  a  symphony,  which 
the  count,  however,  never  received — as  follows : 
"My  circumstances  are  improving  without  the 
assistance  of  people  who  entertain  their  friends 
with  blows.  I  have  also  been  called  to  act  as 
capellmeister  to  the  King  of  Westphalia,  and 
perhaps  I  may  obey  the  call."  The  following 
December,  Beethoven  gave  a  great  concert,  the 


JEKOME   BONAPARTE.  103 

programme  of  which  embraced  the  two  new 
symphonies,  parts  of  his  Mass,  the  concerto  in 
G  minor,  and  the  Chorphantasie.  He  him- 
self improvised  at  the  piano.  The  attention 
of  people  far  and  near  was  called  anew  to  this 
great  and  grave  master  in  music,  whom  the 
sensualist  Jerome  Bonaparte  endeavored  to  at- 
tract to  his  Capua  in  Cassel,  and  they  became 
anxious  lest  he  might  leave  Vienna.  Bee- 
thoven's friends  bestirred  themselves  to  keep 
him  in  Vienna,  as  did  Beethoven  himself  to 
stay.  This  is  very  evident  from  the  letters  to 
Gleichenstein  and  Erdoedy.  Three  friends  of 
his,  to  whom  it  was  largely  due  that  he  wrote 
one  of  his  greatest"  works,  were  instrumental 
in  keeping  him  in  Vienna.  They  were  the 
Archduke  Rudolph,  Prince  Lobkowitz  and 
Prince  Kinsky,  to  whose  wife  the  six  songs,  op. 
75,  are  dedicated.  The  sum  guaranteed 
amounted  to  eight  thousand  marks.  "  You 
see,  my  dear  good  Gleichensteiu,"  he  writes, 
on  the  18th  of  March,  1809,  a  propos  of  the 
"decree"  which  he  had  received  on  the  26th 
of  February,  from  the  hands  of  the  archduke^ 
and  which  imposed  on  him  no  duty  but  to 
remain  in  Vienna  and  Austria,  "  how  honor- 


104  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

able  to  me  my  stay  here  has  become."  He 
could  not,  however,  have  meant  seriously  what 
he  added  immediately  after  :  "The  title  of  im- 
perial capellmeister  will  come  to  me  also;"  for 
what  use  had  a  man  like  the  Emperor  Franz 
for  such  an  "innovator "  at  his  court?  The 
dedications  of  his  works  mentioned  above 
were  simply  testimonials  of  gratitude  for  the 
friendship  thus  si  i own  him. 

He  now  planned  an  extensive  journey, 
which  was  to  embrace  England,  and  even 
Spain.  He  writes  to  Gleichenstein:  "Now 
you  can  help  me  get  a  wife.  If  you  find  a 
pretty  one — one  who  may  perhaps  lend  a  sigh 
to  my  harmonies,  do  the  courting  for  me. 
But  she  must  be  beautiful;  I  cannot  love  any- 
thing that  is  not  beautiful ;  if  I  could  I  should 
fall  in  love  with  myself."  The  coming  war 
interrupted  all  his  plans.  But,  at  the  same 
time,  it  suggested  to  the  imagination  of  our 
artist,  that  wonderful  picture  of  the  battle  of 
forces,  the  seventh  (A  major)  symphony  (op. 
92),  which  Richard  Wagner  has  called  the 
"apotheosis  of  the  dance."  Germany  now 
first  saw  the  picture  of  a  genuinely  national 
war.  Napoleon  appeared  as  Germany's  heredi- 


NAPOLEON.  105 


tary  foe,  and  the  whole  people,  from  the  high- 
est noble  to  the  meanest  peasant  rose  up,  as 
one  man,  to  fight  the  battle  of  freedom.  The 
march  is,  after  all,  only  the  dance  of  war,  and 
Beethoven  gathered  into  one  picture  of  instru- 
mentation, the  glad  tramp  of  warlike  hosts, 
the  rythm  of  trampling  steeds,  the  waving  of 
standards  and  the  sound  of  trumpets,  with  a 
luminousness  such  as  the  world  had  never 
witnessed  before.  The  poet  needs  only  see  the 
eddy  created  by  a  mill-wheel  to  paint  the  vapor 
and  foam  of  Chary bd is.  In  the  case  of  Bee- 
thoven, this  joy  in  the  game  of  war  was,  as 
the  character  of  Bonaparte,  on  another  occa- 
sion, a  stimulant  to  his  imagination,  which 
now  painted  a  picture  of  the  free  play  of  force 
and  of  human  existence  from  the  material  of 
recent  historical  events.  And  even  in  after 
years  the  timeliness  of  this  work  and  the 
spirit  which  called  it  into  existence  were  evi- 
dent. And,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  it  constitut- 
ed the  principal  part  in  the  musical  celebration* 
when,  in  1813,  the  real  war  of  emancipation 
occurred  and  led  to  a  most  decided  victory. 
Personally,  Beethoven  felt  himself  not  inferior 
to  the  mighty  conqueror  in  natural  power,  and, 


106  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

like  Schiller,  he  clearly  foresaw  the  awakening 
of  the  national  genius  which  overthrew  Na- 
poleon. To  this  second-sight  of  the  prophet, 
possessed  by  every  genuine  poet — to  this  sure 
presentiment  of  ultimate  triumph — our  artist 
owed  it,  that,  even  in  the  days  of  Germany's 
greatest  ignominy  and  subjection  he  sang  of 
the  disenthrallment  of  the  mind  and  of  the 
jubilation  of  victory.  Napoleon  defeated  the 
Austrians  again.  But  as  Beethoven  first  felt 
the  weight  and  the  power  of  resistance  of 
Germany  after  the  battles  of  Aspern  and  Wa- 
gram,  he  now  depicted  (after  Napoleon  had 
taken  the  Emperor's  daughter  to  wife  and 
seemed  predestined  to  become  the  despot  of  all 
Europe),  in  the  scherzo  and  finale  of  the 
seventh  symphony,  better  than  ever  before, 
the  jubilation  of  the  victorious  nation,  with  all 
its  popular  feasts  and  games.  Yet,  in  the 
melancholy  second  part,  with  its  monoto- 
nous beats  on  the  dominant 'e,  we  think  we 
hear  the  gloomy  rythm  of  a  funeral  march. 
This  exceedingly  characteristic  theme  is  found 
at  the  very  beginning  of  a  sketch-book  of  the 
year  1809. 

Affairs  were  for  a  time  in  a  very  bad  con- 


AUSTKIAN   AFFAIRS.  107 

dition  in  Vienna  and  all  Austria.  The  burthen 
of  taxation  was  severely  felt.  Everything 
was  at  a  standstill.  When  his  beloved  pupil, 
the  Archduke  Rudolph  retreated  from  Vienna 
he  wrote  the  Lebewohl  of  the  sonata  op.  81a; 
but  its  finale  (die  Anlcunft)  was  not  written 
until  the  30th  of  January,  1810.  The  sum- 
mer was  a  dreary  one  to  Beethoven,  and  there 
was  no  demand  for  the  exercise  of  his  genius. 
Following  Ph.  E.  Bach,  Kirnberger,  Fux 
and  Albrechtsberger  he  prepared  the  Materi- 
ellen  zum  Generalbass  (materials  for  thorough- 
bass) for  his  noble  pupil.  This  work  was 
subsequently  but  wrongly  published  under  the 
the  name  of  Beethoven's  Studien.  On  the  8th 
of  September,  a  charity  concert  was  given  at 
which — to  the  disgrace  of  the  period,  be  it 
said,  for  Napoleon  had  only  just  left  Schoen- 
brunn — the  Eroica  was  performed,  Beethoven 
himself  holding  the  baton.  The  rest  of  the 
summer  he  hoped  to  spend  in  some  quiet 
corner  in  the  country.  He  sojourned  some- 
time with  the  Brunswicks  in  Hungary,  and 
composed  those  works  of  his  genius,  op.  77 
and  78.  His  genius,  indeed,  seems  to  have 
awakened  to  a  new  life  during  this  fall  of 


108  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

1809.  For  the  sketch-book  of  the  seventh 
symphony  (op.  92)  contains  sketches  of  the 
8th  (op.  93)  also ;  and  Beethoven  con- 
templated giving  another  concert  at  Christ- 
mas, at  which,  of  course,  only  new  works 
could  be  performed.  These  sketches  are  fol- 
lowed by  drafts  for  a  new  concerto.  On  these 
drafts  we  find  the  words :  Polonaise  fuer 
Clavier  allein,  also  Freude  schoener  Goet- 
terfunken — "finish  the  overture"  and  "de- 
tached periods  like  princes  are  beggars,  not 
the  whole."  He  here  takes  up  once  more 
those  ideas  of  his  youth,  but  with  a  grander 
conception  of  their  meaning.  They  consti- 
tute the  intellectual  germ  of  the  finale  of  the 
ninth  symphony.  But  the  melody  which  he 
actually  noted  down  was  elaborated  in  1814 
into  the  overture  op.  115  (Zur  Namensfeier) . 
During  this  period  of  Germany's  national 
awakening,  the  theaters  had  again  turned  their 
attention  to  Schiller's  dramas.  The  effect  of 
this  was  to  revive  Beethoven's  youthful  ideas. 
He  now  desired  to  give  Tell  a  musical 
dress.  He  had  already  received  a  commission 
of  this  kind  for  the  Egmont,  and,  on  the  oc- 
casion of  his  receiving  it,  he  gave  expression 


GOETHE.  109 

to  a  remarkable  opinion.  Said  he  to  Ezerny : 
"Schiller's  poems  are  exceedingly  difficult  to 
set  to  music.  The  composer  must  be  able  to 
rise  high  above  the  poet.  But  who  can  rise 
higher  than  Schiller  ?  Goethe  is  much  easier." 
And,  indeed,  his  Egmont  overture  breathes  a 
higher  spirit  and  takes  a  loftier  flight  than 
Goethe's  beautiful  tragedy.  The  composition 
of  this  music  led  to  his  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  the  poet.  To  this  same  year, 
1810,  belong  the  incomparable  songs  Kennst 
du  das  Land,  and  Herz  mein  Herz,  in  op.  75. 

This  year,  1810,  brings  us  to  a  somewhat 
mysterious  point  in  Beethoven's  life,  to  his 
Heirathspartie  (marriage  speculation). 

In  the  spring,  he  writes  to  his  friend  Zmes- 
kall :  "  Do  you  recollect  the  condition  I  am 
in — the  condition  of  Hercules  before  Queen 
Omphale  ?  Farewell,  and  never  again  speak 
of  me  as  the  great  man,  for  I  never  felt  either 
the  weakness  or  the  strength  of  human  nature 
as  I  do  now."  But  writing  to  Wegeler  on  the 
second  of  May,  he  says:  ''For  a  couple  of 
years  I  have  ceased  to  lead  a  quiet  and  peace- 
ful life.  I  was  carried  by  force  into  the 
world's  life.  Yet  I  would  be  happy,  perhaps 


110  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

one  of  the  very  happiest  of  men,  were  it  not 
that  the  demon  has  taken  up  his  abode  in  my 
ears.  Had  I  not  read  somewhere  that  man 
should  not  voluntarily  take  leave  of  life  while 
he  is  still  able  to  do  one  good  deed,  I  should 
long  have  departed  hence,  and  by  my  own 
act.  Life  is  very  beautiful,  but,  in  my  case, 
it  is  poisoned  forever."  He  asked  for  the 
certificate  of  his  baptism,  and  this  in  a  man- 
ner so  urgent  that  it  creates  surprise.  It  was 
three  months  before  the  answer  to  the  enigma 
was  found,  and  Breuning  wrote  that  he  be- 
lieved that  Beethoven's  engagement  was 
broken  off.  But  it  continues  a  mystery,  even 
to  this  day,  who  his  choice  was.  It  has  been 
surmised  that  it  was  his  "immortal  loved  one," 
or  Theresa  Brunswick.  But  we  know  noth- 
ing certain  on  this  point.  True,  he  had  now 
acquired  both  fame  and  a  position  which  raised 
him  above  all  fear  of  want.  But  she  was 
thirty-two  years  old,  and  he  hard  of  hearing. 
In  addition  to  this,  there  was,  on  his  side,  a 
relationship  of  the  nature  of  which  we  shall 
yet  have  something  to  say.  Her  passion,  if 
such  there  was  on  her  part,  must  have  been 
prudently  concealed ;  and  it  is  certainly  re- 


HIS   LOVE.  Ill 

markable  that,  from  this  time  forward,  her 
name  is  not  mentioned  by  Beethoven.  How- 
ever, her  niece,  Countess  Marie  Brunswick, 
who  is  still  living,  expressly  writes :  "  I  never 
heard  of  any  intimate  relation  nor  of  any  love 
between  them,  while  Beethoven's  profound 
love  for  my  father's  cousin,  Countess  Guicci- 
ardi,  was  a  matter  of  frequent  mention."  But 
Giulietta  had  at  this  time  long  been  Countess 
Gallenberg.  The  solution  of  this  mystery, 
accordingly,  belongs  to  the  future. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  have  a  few  notes  to 
Gleichenstein,  who  married  the  younger  Mal- 
fatti,  the  following  year.  In  one  of  them  we 
read :  "  You  live  on  still,  calm  waters — in  a 
safe  harbor.  You  do  not  feel  or  should  not 
feel  the  distress  of  the  friend  who  is  caught  in 
the  storm.  What  will  people  think  of  me 
in  the  planet  Venus  Urania  ?  How  can  one 
judge  of  me  who  has  never  seen  me?  My 
pride  is  so  humbled,  that  even  without  being 
ordered  to  do  so,  I  would  travel  thither  with 
thee."  And,  in  the  other:  "The  news  I 
received  from  you  cast  me  down  again  out  of 
the  regions  of  happiness.  What  is  the  use 
of  saying  that  you  would  send  me  word  when 


112  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEX. 

there  was  to  be  music  again  ?  Am  I  nothing 
more  than  a  musician  to  you  and  to  others  ? 
Nowhere  but  in  my  own  bosom  can  I  find 
a  resting-place.  Externally,  to  myself  there 
is  none.  No,  friendship  and  feelings  like 
it  have  only  pain  for  me.  Be  it  so,  then. 
Poor  Beethoven,  there  is  no  external  happi- 
ness for  you.  You  must  create  your  own 
happiness.  Only  in  the  ideal  world  do  you 
find  friends."  The  sketch  of  that  and  Klaer- 
chen's  song  Freudvoll  und  leidvoll  were 
found  in  the  possession  of  Theresa  Malfatti. 
When  Gleichenstein  was  engaged,  the  feelings 
of  the  man  who  had  been  so  bitterly  deceived 
overflowed.  But  how  could  the  young  girl  of 
eighteen  dare  to  do  what  the  grave  Countess 
would  not  venture  ?  Theresa  Brunswick  died 
unmarried.  Theresa  Malfatti  married,  in  1817, 
one  Herr  von  Drossdick.  Nevertheless,  Bee- 
thoven's intercouse  with  the  family  con- 
tinued. 

We  next  hear  of  his  acquaintance  with 
Bettina  Brentano  which  led  to  his  meeting 
Goethe  in  person. 

Her  brother  Francis  had  married  a  Miss 
Birkenstock,  of  Vienna.  Beethoven  had  been 


BETTINA.  113 

long  and  well  acquainted  with  the  Birken- 
stock  family.  Bettina  Brentano  herself  was 
betrothed  to  Achim  von  Arnira,  and  her 
deep  love  of  music  had  inspired  her  with  a 
genuine  affection  for  Beethoven.  One  beau- 
tiful day  in  May,  she,  in  the  utmost  simplicity 
of  heart,  went,  in  company  with  her  married 
sister,  Mrs.  Savigny,  to  Beethoven  and  met 
with  the  very  best  reception.  He  sang  for 
her  Kennst  du  das  Land,  with  a  sharp 
and  unpleasant  voice.  Her  eyes  sparkled. 
"  Aha !  "  said  Beethoven,  "  most  men  are 
touched  by. something  good.  But  such  men 
have  not  the  artist's  nature.  Artists  are  fiery 
and  do  not  weep."  He  escorted  her  home  to 
Brentano's,  and  after  this  they  met  every  day. 
Bettina  at  this  time  sent  Goethe  an  account 
of  the  impression  made  on  her  by  Beetho- 
ven's appearance  and  conversation.  Her 
charming  letters  are  to  be  found  in  the  Cotta 
Beethovenbuch.  They  show  how  exalted  an 
idea  Beethoven  had  of  his  own  high  calling. 
She  writes :  "  He  feels  himself  to  be  the 
founder  of  a  new  sensuous  basis  of  the  intel- 
lectual life  of  man.  He  begets  the  undreamt- 
of and  the  uncreated.  What  can  such  a  man 
8 


114  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

have  to  do  with  the  world  ?  Sunrise  finds 
him  at  his  blessed  day's  work,  and  at  sunset  he 
is  as  busy  as  at  early  morning.  He  forgets 
even  his  daily  food.  O  !  Goethe,  no  Emperor 
or  King  is  as  conscious  of  his  power  and  of 
the  fact  that  all  power  proceeds  from  him,  as 
is  this  man  Beethoven."  And  Goethe,  who 
"  loved  to  contemplate  and  fix  in  memory 
the  picture  of  real  genius,"  who  well  knew 
"  that  his  intellect  was  even  greater  than  his 
genius,  and  who  frequently  throws  from  him- 
self a  luminousness  like  that  of  lightning,  so 
that  we  can  scarcely  tell,  as  we  sit  in  the 
darkness,  from  what  side  the  day  may  break," 
invited  him  to  Carlsbad,  whither  he  was  wont 
to  go  every  year. 

The  two  remarkable  letters  to  Bettina  of 
the  llth  of  August,  1810,  and  the  10th  of 
February,  1811,  the  autographs  of  which 
have  since  been  found,  show  us  how  deeply 
the  heart  of  our  artist  was  stirred  by  love 
at  this  time.  They  are  to  be  found  in 
"  Beethoven  Letters."  A  work  of  his  com- 
posed about  this  time,  the  Quartetto  serioso,  op. 
95,  of  October,  1810,  throws  some  light  on 
this  love,  and  yet  it  rises'  far  above  the  pain 


QUARTETTO.  115 


and  the  sorrow  of  the  situation  in  which  he 
found  himself.  Heavy  thunders  announce 
Vulcan  at  work ;  but  in  the  finale,  how  Bee- 
thoven's giant  mind  frees  itself  from  itself ! 
The  noble,  powerful  soaring  Trio  op.  97  dates 
from  the  spring  of  1811,  and,  especially  in  the 
adagio,  gives  evidence  of  wonderful  heartfelt 
bliss.  But  the  fact  that  in  this  period  no  other 
compositions  were  written  would  go  to  show  the 
influence  of  bitter  experience.  It  may  be, 
however,  that  the  commission  he  received  for 
the  plays  "  The  Ruins  of  Athens  "  and  "  King 
Stephen,"  took  up  the  best  portion  of  his 
time ;  and,  besides,  the  two  symphonies  had  to 
be  finished.  The  song  An  die  Geliebte  also 
belongs  to  this  year  1811,  as  well  as  the  prin- 
cipal draft  of  op.  96,  the  charmingly  coquet- 
tish sonata  for  the  violin  which  was  finished  in 
1812,  on  the  occasion  of  the  visit  of  the  then 
celebrated  violin  player  Rode  to  Vienna. 

Beethoven's  work  on  these  two  plays  took  up 
the  summer  of  1811,  but  they  were  not  put 
upon  the  stage  until  the  spring  of  1812.  At 
the  same  time,  an  opera  was  wanted  for  Vienna. 
It  was  the  "Ruins  of  Babylon."  He  also 
received  an  invitation  to  Naples,  where  Count 


116  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Gallenberg  was  director  of  the  theater.  We 
next  find  him  traveling  to  Teplitz,  a  bathing 
place,  where  he  formed  a  more  intimate  ac- 
quaintance with  Varnhagen,  Tiedge  and  Elise 
von  der  Recke.  Amalie  Sebald,  a  nut-brown 
maid  of  Berlin,  twenty-five  years  of  age,  was 
stopping  with  Elise.  Amalie  had  a  charming 
voice,  and  was  as  remarkable  for  her  intellectual 
endowments  as  for  her  beauty  of  physique. 
Beethoven,  spite  of  his  many  disappointments, 
was  greatly  taken  with  her.  Her  picture  is 
before  us.  Her  eye  betokens  intellect  and 
nobility  of  soul,  and  her  mouth  extreme 
loveliness.  Beethoven  subsequently  wrote  to 
Tiedge :  "  Press  the  Countess's  hand  for  me 
very  tenderly,  but  very  respectfully.  Give 
Amalie  a  right  loving  kiss,  when  no  one  is 
looking."  He  did  not  see  Goethe  on  this 
occasion.  He  was  at  Teplitz  again  the  fol- 
lowing year,  when  his  meeting — of  which  so 
much  has  been  said  and  written — "  with  the 
most  precious  jewel  of  the  German  nation," 
as  he  called  Goethe,  when  writing  to  Bettina, 
occurred.  We  can  here  give  only  the  prin- 
cipal incidents  of  that  event. 

The  Austrian  imperial  couple,  their  daugh- 


WITH    GOETHE.  117 


ter,  the  Empress  of  France,  the  King  of  Sax- 
ony, the  Duke  of  Saxe- Weimar,  and  a  great 
many  Princes  were  there.  The  company  al- 
ready in  the  place  was  joined  by  Goethe,  the 
jurist  Savigny  and  his  brother-in-law,  A.  von 
Arnim,  together  with  his  charming  wife,  Bet- 
tina.  Beethoven  himself  writes  on  the  12th 
of  August,  1812,  to  his  Archduke  in  Vienna: 

"  I  was  in  Goethe's  company  a  great  deal."  And 
the  poet,  writing  to  Zelter,  passes  the  following  judg- 
ment on  Beethoven:  "  I  became  acquainted  with  Bee- 
thoven in  Teplitz.  His  wonderful  talent  astounded 
me.  But,  unfortunately,  he  is  an  utterly  untamed 
character.  He  is  not,  indeed,  wrong  in  finding  the 
world  detestable.  Still,  his  finding  it  detestable  does 
not  make  it  any  more  enjoyable  either  to  himself  or  to 
others.  But  he  is  very  excusable  and  much  to  be 
pitied.  His  hearing  is  leaving  him.  He  is  by  nature 
laconic,  and  this  defect  is  making  him  doubly  so." 

The  remarkable  incident  related  in  the 
third  letter  to  Bettina,  a  letter  which  has  been 
widely  read  and  the  authenticity  of  which  has 
been  much  contested — for  the  original  does 
not  seem  to  be  extant — Bettina  herself  de- 
scribes in  a  letter  to  Pueckler-Muskau.  Goe- 
the, she  says,  who  had  received  many  marks 
of  attention  from  the  Princes  present,  was  de- 


118  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

sirous  of  testifying  his  special  devotion  to  the 
Empress,  and  in  "  solemn,  unassuming  expres- 
sions" signified  to  Beethoven  that  he  should  do 
the  same.  But  Beethoven  replied:  "What! 
You  must  not  do  so.  You  must  let  them 
clearly  understand  what  they  possess  in  you ; 
for  if  you  do  not,  they  will  never  find  it  out. 
T  have  taken  quite  a  different  course."  And 
then  he  told  how  his  Archduke  once  sent  him 
word  to  wait,  and  how,  instead  of  doing  so,  he 
went  away.  Princes  might  indeed,  he  said, 
decorate  one  with  the  insignia  of  an  order,  or 
make  a  man  a  court  counsellor,  hut  they  could 
never  make  a  Goethe  or  a  Beethoven.  To 
such  men  they  owed  respect.  The  whole  court 
now  came  in.  Beethoven  said  to  Goethe : 
"  Keep  my  arm ;  they  must  make  way  for  us." 
But  Goethe  left  him  and  stood  aside  with 
his  hat  in  his  hand,  while  Beethoven,  with  fold- 
ed arms,  went  through  the  midst  of  them 
and  only  touched  his  hat.  The  court  party 
separated  to  make  place  for  him,  and  they  had 
all  a  friendly  greeting  for  our  artist.  He 
stood  and  waited  at  the  other  end  for  Goethe, 
who  bowed  profoundly  as  the  court  party 
passed  him.  Now  Beethoven  said :  "  I  have 


WITH    GOETHE.  119 


waited  for  you,  because  I  honor  and  respect 
you,  as  you  deserve,  but  you  have  done  them 
too  much  honor."  Then,  it  is  said,  Beethoven 
ran  to  them,  and  told  them  all  that  had  hap- 
pened. 

That  his  behavior,  on  this  occasion,  was 
not  by  any  means  dictated  by  any  over- 
estimation  of  himself,  but  by  a  deep  human 
feeling  of  equality — an  equality  which  the 
artist  finds  it  harder  than  any  one  else  to  assert 
and  acquire — the  whole  course  of  Beethoven's 
life,  as  well  as  his  intercourse  with  people  at 
this  bathing  place  at  Teplitz,  proves.  He 
there  found  Miss  Sebald  again.  A  series  of 
very  tender  notes  written  to  her  tells  us  of  his 
heartfelt  and  good  understanding  with  this 
refined  and  clever  North  German  lady,  who 
made  greater  allowances  for  his  natural  dis- 
position than  were  wont  to  be  made.  He 
writes  in  1816 :  "  I  found  one  whom,  I  am  sure, 
I  shall  never  possess."  His  admission  that,  for 
five  years — that  is  from  1811 , — he  had  known 
a  lady  to  be  united  to  whom  he  would  have 
esteemed  it  the  greatest  happiness  he  could 
have  on  earth,  was  made  in  this  same  year. 
But,  he  added,  that  was  a  happiness  not  to  be 


120  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

thought  of;  union  with  her  was  an  impossi- 
bility, a  chimera !  And  yet  he  closed  with 
the  words :  "  It  is  still  as  it  was  the  first  day 
I  saw  her.  I  can  not  dismiss  the  thought  of 
her  from  my  mind."  He  did  not  know  that 
Amalie  Sebald  had  been  the  wife  of  a  coun- 
cillor of  justice  named  Krause.  Again  did  he 
give  vent  to  his  feeling  in  the  songs  An  die 
feme  Geliebte — "to  the  distant  loved  one" — 
which  bear  the  date ;  "  in  the  month  of 
April,  1816." 

This  was  the  last  time  that  Beethoven  seri- 
ously concerned  himself  about  marriage.  Fate 
would  indeed  have  it  that  he  should  soon  be- 
come a  "father,"  but  without  a  wife.  Yet  no 
matter  what  the  personal  wishes  of  our  artist 
through  the  rest  of  his  life  may  have  been,  or 
what  the  wants  he  felt,  his  eye  was  ever  fixed 
on  a  lofty  goal;  and  it  was  in  the  ideal  world 
that  he  found  his  real  friends.  He  finished 
the  seventh  symphony,  and  after  it  the  eighth, 
in  this  fall  of  1812.  The  coquettish  allegretto 
scherzando  of  the  latter  was  suggested  by  the 
Maelzl  metronome  invented  a  short  time  be- 
fore, and  the  strange  minuet  with  its  proud 
step  is  a  hit  at  the  high  court  society  whom 


COMPOSITIONS.  121 


Beethoven  so  solemnly  warned  that  the  times 
of  the  old  regime,  when  the  principle  Vetat 
Jest  moi  obtained  in  society,  were  passed. 
These  works  are  clearly  expressive  of  the  free 
and  progressive  spirit  of  a  new  and  better  age. 
It  was  the  seventh  symphony  especially  that, 
in  the  broadest  sense,  opened  to  Beethoven 
himself  the  hearts  of  that  age.  This  sympho- 
ny helped  celebrate  the  newly-won  peace  es- 
tablished by  the  Congress  of  Vienna.  Bee- 
thoven now  entered  a  new  stage  of  develop- 
ment, and  rose  to  his  full  height  as  an  artist 
and  a  man.  Other  works  composed  by  Bee- 
thoven during  this  period  are  the  following: 
32  variations  (1806-7) ;  In  questa  tomba 
(1807) ;  sonatine  (op.  79) ;  variations  op.  76 
and  Lied  aus  der  Feme  (composed  1809)  ; 
die  laute  Klage  (probably  1809 ;  Sextett  op. 
8b.  Andenken,  Sehnsucht  by  Goethe;  der  Lieb- 
ende,  der  Jungling  in  der  Fremde  (appeared 
in  1810) ;  three  songs  by  Goethe,  op.  83  (com- 
posed in  1810) ;  Scotch  songs  (commenced  in 
1810 ;  four  ariettes,  op.  82,  (appeared  1811)  ; 
trio  in  one  movement  and  three  equale  for 
four  trombones,  (composed  in  1812)  the  latter 
of  which  was  re-arranged  as  a  dirge  for  Bee- 
thoven's burial. 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

1813—1823. 
THE  MISSA  SOLEMNIS  AND  THE  NINTH  SYMPHONY. 

Resignation — Pecuniary  Distress — Napoleon's  Decline — The 
Battle- Symphony — Its  Success — Beethoven's  Own  Es- 
timate of  It — Wellington's  Victory — Strange  Conduct — 
Intellectual  Exaltation — His  Picture  by  Letronne — The 
Fidelio  Before  the  Assembled  Monarchs — Beethoven  the 
Object  of  Universal  Attention — Presents  from  Kings — 
Works  Written  in  1814  and  1815— The  Liederkreis 
— Madame  von  Ertman — His  Nephew — Romulus  and  the 
Oratorio — His  "Own  Style" — Symphony  for  London — 
Commission  from  London — Opinion  of  the  English 
People — His  Songs — His  Missa  Solemnis — His  Own 
Opinion  of  It — Its  Completion — Characteristics — The 
Ninth  Symphony. 

"  RESIGNATION,  the  most  absolute  and  heart- 
felt resignation  to  thy  fate  !  Thou  shouldst 
not  live  for  thyself,  but  only  for  others. 
Henceforth  there  is  no  happiness  for  thee,  but 
in  thy  art.  O  God,  grant  me  strength  to 
conquer  myself.  Nothing  should  now  tie  me 
to  life."  "With  this  cry  of  the  heart,  taken 
verbatim  from  his  diary  of  1812,  Beethoven 
consecrated  himself  to  the  noble  task  which 
(122) 


POVERTY.  123 

after  this  he  never  lost  sight  of — of  writing 
"  for  the  honor  of  the  Almighty,  the  Eternal, 
the  Infinite." 

The  national  bankruptcy  of  Austria  did  not 
leave  Beethoven  unaffected.  It  compelled 
him,  besides,  to  come  to  the  assistance  of  his 
sick  brother,  Karl.  The  first  thing,  there- 
fore, that  he  felt  called  upon  to  undertake,  in 
order  to  provide  himself  with  the  mere  means 
of  subsistence,  was  the  public  representation  of 
his  new  compositions.  It  was  not  long  before 
an  occasion  of  an  extraordinary  kind  offered, 
an  occasion  which  lifted  Beethoven's  creations 
to  the  dignity  of  one  of  the  motive  powers  of 
the  national  life  of  the  period.  The  star  of 
Napoleon's  destiny  was  declining;  and  the 
gigantic  struggle  begun  to  bring  about  the 
overthrow  of  the  tyrant  of  Europe,  enlisted 
the  sympathy  and  active  participation  of  our 
artist. 

"To  abandon  a  great  undertaking  and  to  re- 
main as  I  am !  O,  what  a  difference  between 
the  un-industrious  life  I  pictured  to  myself  so 
often !  O,  horrible  circumstances  which  do 
not  suppress  my  desire  to  be  thrifty,  but  which 
keep  one  from  being  so.  O,  God!  O,  God! 


124  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEX. 

look  down  on  thy  unhappy  Beethoven.  Let 
this  last  no  longer  as  it  is. "  Thus  did  he  write 
in  May,  1813,  in  his  diary.  Madame  Streich- 
er,  interested  herself  in  him  in  his  pecuniary 
embarrassment,  which  was  so  great  that  at  one 
time,  he  did  not  have  so  much  as  a  pair  of  boots 
to  leave  the  house  in.  He  writes:  "I  do 
not  deserve  to  be  in  the  condition  I  am 
— the  most  un  fortunate  of  my  life."  The  pay- 
ments due  him  from  Kinsky  did  not  come,  be- 
cause of  his  sad  death,  and  Prince  Lobkowitz's 
love  of  music  and  the  theater  had  greatly  em- 
barrassed him  financially.  Even  the  giving 
of  a  concert  which  he  contemplated  had  to  bft 
abandoned  in  consequence  of  the  bad  times. 

The  idea  of  a  journey  to  London  now  took 
possession  of  him  all  the  more  strongly  be- 
cause of  the  straits  to  which  he  was  reduced. 
This  journey  was,  doubtless,  the  "great  un- 
dertaking "  referred  to  above.  It  is  deserving 
of  special  mention  here,  because  to  it  we  are 
indebted  for  the  ninth  symphony. 

Maelzl,  the  inventor  of  the  metronome,  had 
built  a  panharmonicum,  and  was  anxious  to 
make  the  journey  to  London  in  company  with 
Beethoven.  He  had  had  the  burning  of 


BATTLE-SYMPHONY.  125 

Moscow  set  for  his  instrument ;  and  he  now 
wanted  a  musical  representation  of  the  next 
great  event  of  the  time — Wellington's  victory 
at  Vittoria.  He  suggested  the  idea  to  Beet- 
hoven. Beethoven's  hatred  of  Napoleon  and 
love  of  England  induced  him  to  adopt  it,  and 
this  was  the  origin  of  the  Schlachtsymphonie 
(battle-symphony)  op.  91.  For,  in  accord- 
ance with  Maelzl's  proposition,  he  elaborated 
what  was  at  first  a  trumpeter's  piece  into  an 
instrumental  composition.  It  was  performed 
before  a  large  audience  "  for  the  benefit  of  the 
warriors  made  invalids  in  the  battle  of  Hanau." 
And — ,  irony  of  fate  ! — a  work  which  Beetho- 
ven himself  declared  to  be  a  "piece  of  stu- 
pidity," took  the  Viennese  by  storm,  and  at  a 
bound,  made  him  very  popular  in  Vienna. 

It  was  performed  on  the  12th  of  December, 
1813.  The  applause  was  unbounded.  All 
the  best  artists  of  the  city  were  with  him. 
Salieri,  Hummel,  Moscheles,  Schuppanzigh, 
Mayseder,  and  even  strangers  like  Meyerbeer, 
assisted  him.  The  Seventh  Symphony  was  the 
ideal  foundation  of  the  entire  production,  for 
that  symphony  was  the  expression  of  the 
awakening  of  the  heroic  spirit  of  the  nation. 


126  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Anton  Schindler,  of  whom  we  have  already 
spoken  more  than  once,  and  of  whom  we  shall 
have  more  to  say  in  the  sequel,  as  Beethoven's 
companion,  writes :  "All  hitherto  dissenting 
voices,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  professors 
of  music,  finally  agreed  that  he  was  worthy  of 
the  laurel  crown."  He  rightly  calls  the  pro- 
duction of  this  piece  one  of  the  most  important 
events  in  Beethoven's  life;  for  now  the  portals 
of  the  temple  of  fame  were  opened  wide  to  re- 
ceive him ;  and  if  he  had  had  nothing  "  nobler 
or  better  "  than  this  to  do  in  life,  he  certainly 
would  never  again  feel  the  want  of  the  good 
things  of  this  world. 

His  next  concern  was  to  turn  the  occasion 
of  the  moment  to  advantage,  to  give  some  con- 
certs with  Wellington's  Victory,  and  thus  ob- 
tain leisure  to  work.  Pieces  from  the  "  Ruins 
of  Athens  "  also  were  played  at  these  concerts. 
The  success  of  one  aria  in  particular  from  that 
composition  suggested  to  one  of  the  singers 
of  the  court -opera  the  idea  of  reviving 
the  Fidelio.  It  then  received  the  form  in 
which  we  have  it  to-day.  And  what  a  hold 
the  character  of  Leonore  still  had  on  our 
artist's  soul,  we  learn  from  the  account  of  the 


THE    FIDELIO.  127 


dramatic  poet,  Treitschke,  who  again  tried  to 
abridge  the  text.  He  had  given  expression 
to  the  last  flash  of  life  in  the  scene  in  Flores- 
tein's  dungeon,  in  the  words : 

*'  Und  spur  ich  nicht  linde,  sanft  sauselnde  Luft 

Und  ist  nicht  mein  Grab  mir  erhellet  ? 
Und  seh1  wie  ein  Engel  im  rosigen  Duft 

Sich  trostend  zur  Seite  mir  stellet, 
Ein  Engel,  Leonoren,  der  Gatten  so  gleich, 
Der  fllhrt  inich  zur  Freiheit  ins  himmlische  Reich." 

"What  I  now  tell  you,"  he  continues,  "will 
never  fade  from  my  memory.  Beethoven 
came  to  me  in  the  evening.  He  read,  ran  up 
and  down  the  room,  murmured,  growled,  as 
he  usually  did  instead  of  singing,  and  tore 
open  the  pianoforte.  My  wife  had  frequently 
begged  him  in  vain  to  play.  To-day  he 
placed  the  text  before  him  and  began  playing 
wonderful  melodies,  which  unfortunately  no 
charm  could  preserve.  The  hour  passed. 
Beethoven,  however,  continued  his  improvisa- 
tion. Supper  was  served  but  he  would  allow 
no  one  to  disturb  him.  It  grew  quite  late. 
He  then  put  his  arms  about  me  and  hurried 
home.  A  few  days  after  the  piece  was 
finished." 

At  this  time  he  wrote  to  Brunswick :     "My 


128  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

kingdom  is  in  the  air.  My  soul  trills  as  the 
winds  warble ;"  and  to  Treitschke  :  "In  short 
I  assure  you,  the  opera  will  win  the  crown  of 
martyrdom  for  me."  Thus  Leonore's  sorrows 
and  victory  found  expression  a  second  time  ; 
for  now  the  so  called  Fidelio  overture  (E  major) 
was  composed.  At  its  performance  on  the 
23d  of  May,  1814,  Beethoven  was  after  the 
very  first  act,  enthusiastically  called  for  and 
enthusiastically  greeted.  The  applause  in- 
creased with  every  succeeding  performance. 

Beethoven  was  now  one  of  the  best  known 
characters  in  Vienna.  He  had,  even  before 
this,  given  several  concerts  of  his  own,  and  at 
several  others  music  composed  by  him  had 
been  performed.  His  picture  by  Letronne 
appeared  at  this  time.  "  It  is  as  natural  as 
life,"  said  Dr.  Weissenbach.  He  had,  on  the 
26th  of  September,  received  with  his  music  of 
the  Fidelio,  the  assemblage  of  monarchs  who 
had  come  to  attend  the  Congress  of  Vienna; 
and  what  was  more  natural  than  that  he 
should  now  greet  them  with  something  new 
in  the  nature  of  festal  music  ?  He  did  this 
with  the  cantata,  der  Glorreiche  AugenblicJc 
("  the  glorious  moment")  op.  136.  The  pro- 


BATTLE-SYMPHONY.  129 

duction  of  it  took  place  in  the  ever  memorable 
Academy,  on  the  29th  of  November,  1814, 
when  Beethoven,  before  a  "parterre  of  kings," 
and  what  was  more,  before  the  educated  of 
Europe,  by  the  mere  assistance  of  his  art, 
helped  celebrate  the  solemn  moment  which 
did  away  with  oppression  and  tyranny  and 
marked  the  beginning  of  a  new  and  happier 
period.  His  audience  was  numbered  by 
thousands,  and  "  the  respectful  absence  of  all 
loud  signs  of  applause  gave  the  whole  the 
character  of  worship.  Every  one  seemed  to 
feel  that  never  again  would  there  be  such  a 
moment  in  his  life."  This  extract  is  from 
Schindler's  account,  yet,  at  certain  places  "the 
ecstasy  of  all  present  found  expression  in  the 
loudest  applause,  applause  which  drowned  the 
powerful  accompaniment  of  the  composer." 
The  Schlachtsymphonie  (battle-symphony)  as 
well  as  the  seventh  symphony,  contributed  to 
the  achievement  of  this  victory.  After  it  was 
over,  he  wrote  to  the  archduke  :  "  I  am  still 
exhausted  by  fatigue,  vexation,  pleasure  and 
joy."  But  to  get  an  idea  of  the  overpowering 
impression  made  on  him  by  those  days,  we 
must  refer  to  his  diary  of  the  following  spring, 
9 


130  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOYEX. 

when  all  that  he  had  then  experienced  took  a 
definite  form  in  his  feelings  and  consciousness. 
He  then  writes : 

"May  all  my  life  be  sacrificed  to  the  sublime.  May 
it  be  a  sanctuary  of  art.  .  .  .  Let  me  live,  even 
if  I  have  to  have  recourse  to  'assistance,'  and  such 
means  can  be  found.  Let  the  ear  apparatus  be  per- 
fected if  possible,  and  then  travel!  This  you  owe  to 
man  and  the  Almighty.  Only  thus  can  you  develop 
what  is  locked  up  within  you.  The  court  of  a  prince, 
a  little  orchestra  to  write  music  for,  and  to  produce  it, 
for  the  honor  of  the  Almighty,  the  Eternal,  the  Infi- 
nite. Thus  may  my  last  years  pass  away,  and  to 
future  humanity " 

He  breaks  off  here  as  if  he  did  not  need  to 
express  an  opinion  on  what  he  aimed  at  achiev- 
ing and  left  after  him  as  an  inheritance.  But 
the  reputation  which  he  had  acquired  is  cor- 
rectly decsribed  as  "one  of  the  greatest  ever 
won  by  a  musician."  And  now,  more  than 
ever  before,  he  was  the  object  of  universal 
attention,  especially  at  the  brilliant  entertain- 
ments given  by  the  Russian  ambassador,  count 
Rasumowsky,  to  the  monarchs  present,  on  one 
of  which  occasions  he  was  presented  to  them. 
The  Empress  of  Russia  wished  to  pay  him  a 
special  "compliment."  She  did  so  at  the 


KOYAL    GIFTS.  131 


palace  of  Archduke  Rudolph,  who  thus  helped 
celebrate  the  triumph  of  his  honored  teacher. 
At  a  court  concert  on  the  25th  of  January, 
1815,  he  accompanied  the  Adelaide  for  Flores- 
tan  Wild  himself;  and  Schindler  closes  his 
account  of  it  with  the  words:  "The  great 
master  recalled  those  days  with  much  feeling, 
and  with  a  certain  pride  once  said  that  he 
had  made  the  great  pay  their  court  to  him, 
and  that  with  them  he  had  always  preserved  his 
dignity."  He  thus  verified  what,  as  we  saw 
alone,  he  had  said  to  Goethe :  "  You  must  let 
them  clearlv  understand  what  they  possess  in 

you." 

The  "  assistance  "  he  longed  for  came  in  the 
form  of  presents  from  monarchs,  especially  of 
the  "  magnanimous  "  one  of  the  Empress  of 
Russia,  for  whom  he,  at  that  time,  wrote  the 
polonaise,  op.  89.  These  presents  enabled  him 
to  make  a  permanent  investment  of  twenty 
thousand  marks,  which  his  friends  were  very 
much  surprised  to  find  he  owned,  after  his 
death.  But,  although  by  "  decree  "  he  drew 
yearly  the  sum  of  2,700  marks,  his  principal 
source  of  income  continued  to  be  derived  from 
his  intellectual  labor;  for  his  dearly  beloved 


132  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

brother  Karl  died  and  left  him,  as  an  inherit- 
ance, so  to  speak,  his  eight-year-old  son,  named 
after  his  father — the  mother  not  being  a  fit 
person  to  take  care  of  the  child,  and,  besides, 
not  enjoying  the  best  of  reputations.  Beetho- 
ven's struggles  for  his  "  son,"  the  unfortunatt 
nephew,  with  the  mother,  whom  he  was  wont 
to  call  the  "  queen  of  the  night,"  filled  the  next 
succeeding  years  of  his  life  with  legal  con- 
troversies and  negotiations  to  such  an  extent 
that  they  seem  to  have  hindered  him  in  his 
work.  Extreme  trouble  of  mind,  brought 
about  by  the  social  and  political  degeneration 
of  Vienna  immediately  after  the  Congress,  soon 
entirely  obscured  the  lustre  of  the  days  we 
have  just  described ;  and  it  was  only  for  short 
moments  of  time,  as  on  the  occasion  of  the 
celebrated  concert  of  the  year  1824,  that  we 
see  his  old  pride  and  fame  revive.  The  works 
performed  at  that  concert  were  the  Missa  So- 
lemnis  and  the  Ninth  Symphony.  The  former 
was  a  token  of  gratitude  and  devotion  to  the 
Archduke  Rudolph,  but  at  the  same  time  a 
reflection  of  the  soul  of  the  artist  himself  as  we 
have  heard  him  describe  it  above.  The  sym- 
phony was  written  "  for  London,"  whither  in 


LONDON.  133 


these  saddening  times  his  eyes  were  directed, 
and  which,  although  he  never  undertook  the 
contemplated  journey  thither,  became  the  in- 
centive to  the  composition  of  many  important 
works. 

Among  the  works  which  date  from  1814 
and  1815,  we  may  mention  the  sonata,  op.  90, 
a  "  struggle  between  the  head  and  the  heart," 
addressed  in  the  summer  of  1814  to  Count 
Moritz  Lichnowsky  on  the  occasion  of  his  mar- 
riage to  a  Vienna  singer;  the  song  MerTcen- 
stein  (op.  100),  composed  in  the  winter  of 
1814;  Tiedge's  Hoffnung  (op.  94),  composed 
after  the  last  court  concert  for  the  singer 
Wild;  the  chorus  Meeresstille  and  Glueckliche 
Fahrt  (op.  112),  which  was  written  in  1815, 
and  in  1822,  "most  respectfully  dedicated  to 
the  immortal  Goethe;"  lastly,  the  magnificent 
cello  sonatas,  op.  102,  dedicated  to  Countess 
Erdoedy,  who  became  reconciled  with  him  once 
more  during  this  winter,  after  there  had  been 
a  variance  between  them  for  a  time.  He  calls 
the  first  of  these  sonatas  the  "free  sonata," 
and,  indeed,  freedom  now  became  the  charac- 
teristic of  his  higher  artistic  pictures.  The 
adagio  of  the  second  discloses  to  us,  in  the 


134  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

choral-like  construction  of  its  theme,  the  pre- 
vailing religious  direction  taken  by  his 
thoughts,  which  is  also  apparent  in  very  many 
expressions  and  quotations  to  be  found  in  his 
diary. 

We  have  already  mentioned  the  Liederkreis, 
op.  98.  Beethoven  worked  at  it  and  at  the 
sonata  op.  101  at  the  same  time.  The  latter, 
an  expression  of  the  deepest  poetry  of  the 
soul,  was  ready  the  following  year,  and  was 
dedicated  to  Madame  von  Ertmann,  his  "dear 
Dorothea  Caecilia,"  who,  because  she  thor- 
oughly understood  the  meaning  of  Beethoven's 
music,  became  a  real  propagandist  of  his  com- 
positions for  the  piano.  In  1831,  Mendelssohn 
could  say  that  he  had  "learned  much"  from 
her  deeply  expressive  execution.  The  noble 
lady  had  lost  her  only  son  during  the  absence 
of  her  husband  in  the  wars  of  emancipation  ; 
and  Beethoven  had  rescued  her  from  a  con- 
dition of  mind  bordering  on  melancholy,  by 
coming  to  her  and  playing  for  her  until  she 
burst  into  tears.  "The  spell  was  broken." 
"We  finite  creatures  with  an  infinite  mind  are 
born  only  for  suffering  and  for  joy  ;  and  we 
might  almost  say  that  the  best  of  human  kind 


HIS   NEPHEW.  135 


obtain  joy  only  through  their  sorrow."  Thus 
spoke  Beethoven  to  Countess  Erdoedy,  and 
this  little  incident  confirms  its  truth.  His 
own  sufferings  gave  our  artist  the  tones  of  his 
musical  creations,  and  these  creations  were  to 
him  "the  dearest  gift  of  heaven,"  and,  as  it 
were,  a  consolation  from  on  high. 

But  to  continue  our  biography. 

When,  after  a  violent  contest  with  the 
mother,  he  was  made  sole  guardian  of  his 
nephew,  and  could  then  call  him  his  own,  he 
seems,  as  a  lady  whose  diary  is  embodied  in 
the  little  book  JEine  stille  Liebe  zu  Beethoven, 
informs  us,  to  gain  new  life.  He  devoted 
himself  heart  and  soul  to  the  boy,  and  he 
wrote,  or  was  unable  to  write,  according  as  the 
care  of  his  nephew  brought  him  joy  or  sorrow. 
We  can  readily  understand  how  it  came  to 
pass  that  he  now  penned  the  words  found  by 
the  lady  just  mentioned,  in  a  memorandum 
book  of  his :  "  My  heart  overflows  at  the 
aspect  of  the  beauties  of  nature — and  this 
without  her."  His  "distant  loved  one"  was 
still  to  him  the  most  valued  possession  of  his 
life — more  to  him,  even,  than  himself. 

He  had  now  in  view  several  great  projects — 


136  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

among  them  an  opera,  Romulus,  by  Treitschke, 
and  an  oratorio  for  the  recently  founded  "So- 
ciety of  the  Friends  of  Music,"  in  Vienna. 
The  latter  failed,  through  the  niggardliness  of 
the  directors,  and  the  former  was  not  finished, 
although  our  artist  never  gave  up  the  intention 
of  completing  it.  In  the  autumn  of  1816,  an 
English  general,  Kyd,  asked  Beethoven  to 
write  a  symphony,  for  two  hundred  ducats. 
But  as  the  general  wanted  it  written  in  the 
style  of  his  earlier  works,  Beethoven  himself 
refused  to  accept  the  commission.  Yet  this 
narrow  English  enthusiast  had  excited  Bee- 
thoven's imagination  with  glowing  accounts  of 
the  harvest  of  profit  he  might  reap  in  England, 
and  as  Beethoven  had  recently  sold  many  of 
his  works  there,  and  as,  besides,  the  new 
"  Philharmonic  Society  "  had  handsomely  re- 
munerated him  for  these  overtures,  his  inten- 
tion of  crossing  the  Channel  began  to  assume 
a  more  definite  form.  His  Schlachtsymphonie 
(battle  symphony) ,  especially,  had  already  met 
with  a  very  flattering  reception  in  England. 
And  a  project  was  on  foot  in  that  country,  even 
now,  to  give  him  a  "  benefit "  by  the  produc- 
tion of  his  own  works;  and  such  a  "benefit" 


NINTH    SYMPHONY.  137 

was  actually  given  for  him  there  when  he  was 
on  his  death-bed.  He  wrote  in  1816  that  it 
would  flatter  him  to  be  able  to  write  some  new 
works,  such  as  symphonies  and  an  oratorio,  for 
the  Society  which  embraced  a  greater  number 
of  able  musicians  than  almost  any  other  in 
Europe. 

His  diary  covering  this  period  to  1818,  pub- 
lished in  the  work  Die  Beethovenfeier  und  die 
deutsche  Kunst,  because  of  the  many  items  of 
interest  it  has  in  it,  contains  these  characteris- 
tic lines :  "  Drop  operas  and  everything  else. 
Write  only  in  your  own  style."  But  even  the 
sketches  of  the  Seventh  Symphony  had  the  re- 
mark accompanying  them :  "2.  Symphony  in 
D  minor,"  and  those  of  the  eighth:  ."Symphony 
in  D  minor — 3.  Symphony."  Belonging  to 
the  years  succeeding  1812,  we  find  drafts  of  the 
scherzo  of  the  Ninth  Symphony.  The  headings 
above  given  undoubtedly  had  reference  to  this 
last,  but  the  sketches  of  the  first  movement, 
decisive  of  the  character  of  such  a  work,  are 
not  to  be  found  until  the  year  1816,  but  then 
they  are  found  with  the  physiognomy  so  mascu- 
line and  so  full  of  character  which  distinguishes 
this  "  symphony  for  London."  He  once  said 


138  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

of  Englishmen  that  they  were,  for  the  most 
part,  "  clever  fellows;"  and  he — of  whom 
Zelter  wrote  to  Goethe,  that  "  he  must  have 
had  a  man  for  his  mother  " — felt  that,  in  Eng- 
land, he,  as  a  man,  had  to  do  with  men,  and, 
as  an  artist,  to  enter  the  list  with  Handel, 
whose  own  powerful  influence  was  due  to  his 
decided  manfulness  of  character.  And  then, 
had  not  England  produced  a  tragic  poet  like 
Shakspeare,  whom  Beethoven  loved  above  all 
others?  Deep,  tragic  earnestness,  and  a  mas- 
culine struggle  with  fate,  are  here  the  funda- 
mental tone  and  design  of  the  whole.  "And 
then  a  cowl  when  thou  closest  thy  unhappy 
life" — such  is  the  conclusion  of  the  lines 
quoted  ahove,  in  which  he  says  that  he  must 
write  "  only  in  his  own  style." 

And  now,  in  July,  1817,  came  from  London 
the  "direct  commission"  he  had  so  long  en- 
deavored to  obtain.  The  Society  desired 
to  send  him  a  proof  of  their  esteem  and 
gratitude  for  the  many  happy  moments  his 
works  had  given  them  to  enjoy,  and  invited 
him  to  come  to  London  to  write  two  great 
symphonies,  promising  him  an  honorarium  of 
three  hundred  pounds  sterling.  Beethoven 


TENTH   SYMPHONY.  139 

immediately  accepted  the  commission,  and 
assured  them  that  he  would  do  his  very  best 
to  execute  it — honorable  as  it  was  to  him,  and 
coming  as  it  did  from  so  select  a  society  of 
artists — in  the  worthiest  manner  possible. 
He  promised  to  go  to  work  immediately. 
"  He  believed  that  he  could  nowhere  receive 
the  distinction  which  his  gigantic  genius — in 
advance  of  his  age  by  several  centuries — 
deserved,  as  he  could  in  Great  Britain.  The 
respect  shown  him  by  the  English  people, 
he  valued  more  than  that  of  all  Europe 
besides.  The  feeling  he  had  of  his  own 
powers  may,  indeed,  have  contributed  to  make 
him  prefer  the  English  nation  to  all  others, 
especially  as  they  showered  so  many  marks  of 
distinction  on  him."  Thus  writes  one  of  his 
most  intimate  friends  in  Vienna,  Baron  Von 
Zmeskall,  already  mentioned ;  and  certain  it 
is  that  he  did  his  very  best  on  this  work.  It, 
as  well  as  the  symphony  in  C  minor,  is  of 
the  true  Beethoven  type — more  so,  perhaps, 
than  any  other  of  his  works — the  full  picture 
of  his  own  personal  existence  and  of  the 
tragedy  of  human  life  in  general.  This  work 
was  followed  by  the  Tenth  Symphony,  the 


140  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

"  poetical  idea,"  at  least,  of  which  we  know. 
The  first  movement  was  intended  to  represent 
a  "feast  of  Bacchus,"  the  adagio  a  cantique 
ecclesiastique,  a  church  hymn,  and  the  finale 
the  reconciliation  of  the  antique  world,  which 
he  esteemed  so  highly  with  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  into  the  full  depth  of  which  he 
came  to  have  a  deeper  insight  every  day  that 
passed.  We  see  that  he  had  lofty  plans,  and 
that  no  poet  ever  soared  to  sublimer  heights 
than  he.  We  must  bear  these  great  plans 
and  labors  of  Beethoven  in  mind  if  we  would 
rightly  understand  his  subsequent  life — if  we 
would  comprehend  how,  in  the  desolate  and 
distracted  existence  he  was  compelled  hence- 
forth to  lead,  he  did  not  become  a  victim  of 
torpidity,  but  that,  on  the  contrary,  the  elas- 
ticity of  his  genius  grew  greater  and  greater, 
and  that  his  creations  gained  both  in  depth 
and  perfection. 

Thus  do  we  see  with  our  own  eyes  at  least 
one  of  his  works  born  of  his  own  life. 

The  songs  Ruf  vom  Berge  and  So  oder  so, 
were  composed  in  the  winter  of  1816-17;  and 
in  the  following  spring,  after  the  sudden  death 
of  one  of  his  friends,  the  chorus  Rasch  tritt 


SCHNYDEE.  141 


der  Tod,  from  Schiller's  Tell.  "  O  God,  help 
me!  Thou  seest  me  forsaken  by  all  mankind. 
O  hard  fate,  O  cruel  destiny!  No,  no,  no, 
my  unhappy  condition  will  never  end.  Thou 
hast  no  means  of  salvation  but  to  leave  here. 
Only  by  so  doing  canst  thou  rise  to  the  height 
of  thy  art.  Here  thou  art  immersed  in  vul- 
garity. Only  one  symphony,  and  then  away, 
away,  away!"  Thus  does  he  write  in  his 
diary.  He  next,  in  1817,  finished  the  quin- 
tet fugue,  op.  137,  and,  in  1818,  the  great 
sonata  for  the  Hammer-clavier,  op.  106.  The 
adagio  of  the  latter  is  the  musical  expression 
of  earnest  prayer  to  God.  Its  first  movement 
shows  how  he  had  soared  once  more  to  the 
heights  of  his  art.  "  The  sonata  was  written 
under  vexatious  circumstances,"  he  says  to  his 
friend  Bies ;  and  to  a  younger  fellow-artist, 
the  composer  Schnyder  von  Wartensee :  "  Go 
on.  There  is  no  calmer,  more  unalloyed  or 
purer  joy  than  that  which  arises  from  as- 
cending higher  and  higher  into  the  heaven 
of  art."  Such,  too,  was  his  mood  in  those 
days  when  he  promised  his  friend  Zmeskall 
the  trio  for  the  piano  in  C  minor,  his  op.  1, 
worked  over  into  the  quintet  op.  104 ;  for  he 


142  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

wrote :  "  I  rehearse  getting  nearer  the  grave, 
without  music,  every  day."  In  keeping  with 
this  is  the  song,  Lisch  ans  mein  Licht,  "  Put 
out  my  light,"  which  also  belongs  to  this 
period.  The  supplication :  "  O  hear  me  al- 
ways, Thou  unspeakable  One,  hear  me,  thy 
unhappy  creature,  the  most  unfortunate  of  all 
mortals,"  found  in  his  diary,  belongs  to  this 
same  time.  It  is  now  easy  to  see  that  he  was 
in  a  very  suitable  frame  of  mind  when  he 
resolved,  in  1818,  to  write  a  solemn  mass  for 
the  occasion  of  the  inauguration  of  his  dis- 
tinguished pupil  J  as  Archbishop  of  Olmutz. 
It  was  the  "little  court,"  the  "little  orchestra" 
for  which  he  wished  to  write  the  music  "  for 
the  honor  of  the  Almighty,  the  Eternal,  the 
Infinite;"  for  the  Archduke  thought  of  making 
him  his  capellmeister  there.  After  four  years' 
labor,  the  Hissa  Solemnis,  op.  123,  was  fin- 
ished. Beethoven  called  it  "  Voeuvre  le  plus 
accompli,  my  most  finished  work."  And,  like 
the  Fidelio,  it  is  deserving  of  this  character- 
ization, but  more  on  account  of  the  pains 
taken  with  it  and  the  labor  expended  on  it 
than  of  its  matter. 

"Sacrifice  again  all  the  trivialties  of  social 


THE   MASS.  143 


life  to  thy  art.  0,  God  above  all !  "For  Provi- 
dence eternal  omnisciently  orders  the  happi- 
ness or  unhappiness  of  mortal  men."  With 
these  words  from  the  Odyssey,  he  resolved 
to  consecrate  himself  to  this  great  work. 
And  it  was  a  resolve  in  very  deed.  For,  as 
in  opera,  he  knew  that  he  was  here  bound 
by  traditionary  forms — forms  which,  indeed, 
in  some  details  afforded  rich  food  to  his  own 
thoughts,  but  which,  on  the  whole,  hindered 
the  natural  flow  of  his  fancy.  We  now 
approach  a  period  in  Beethoven's  life  in 
which  he  was  strangely  secluded  from  the 
world.  The  painter,  Kloeber,  the  author  of 
the  best  known  portrait  of  Beethoven,  and 
which  is  to  be  found  in  Beethoven's  Brevier 
— it  was  painted  during  the  summer  of  1818 
— once  saw  him  throw  himself  under  a  fir 
tree  and  look  for  a  long  time  "up  into  the 
heavens."  In  some  of  the  pages  of  his  written 
conversations — for  it  was  now  necessary  for  him 
to  have  recourse  to  putting  his  conversations 
on  paper  more  frequently  on  account  of  his  in- 
creasing deafness — he  wrote  in  the  winter  of 
1819-20 :  "  Socrates  and  Jesus  were  patterns 
to  me;"  and  after  that:  "The  moral  law  within 


144  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

us  and  the  starry  heavens  above  us. — Kant ! ! !" 
Just  as  on  the  4th  of  March,  1820,  he  wrote : 

"Ernte  bald  an  Gottes  Thron 
Meiner  Leiden  schoenen  Lohn." 

This  was  the  time  of  the  struggles  with  the 
mother  of  his  "son"  and  of  the  heartfelt  sor- 
row he  had  to  endure  on  account  of  the  moral 
ruin  of  the  poor  boy  himself,  who,  always 
going  from  the  one  to  the  other,  did  not  really 
know  to  whom  he  belonged,  and  who,  there- 
fore, deceived  both.  "From  the  heart — may 
it  in  turn  appeal  to  hearts !"  He  wrote  these 
words  on  the  score  of  the  mass ;  and  Schind- 
ler,  who  was  now  his  companion,  says  that 
"the  moment  he  began  this  work  his  whole 
nature  seemed  to  change."  He  would  sit  in 
the  eating-house  sunk  in  deep  thought,  forget 
to  order  his  meals,  and  then  want  to  pay  for 
them.  **  Some  say  he  is  a  fool,"  wrote  Zelter 
to  Goethe  in  1819.  And  Schindler  tells  us 
"  he  actually  seemed  possessed  in  those  days, 
especially  when  he  wrote  the  fuge  and  the 
Benedictus"  That  fuge,  Et  vitam  senturi 
(life  everlasting ! )  is  the  climax  of  the  work, 
since  the  depiction  of  the  imperishableness 
and  inexhaustibleuess  of  Being  was  what  Bee- 


THE   BENEDICTUS.  145 

thoven's  powerful  mind  was  most  used  to. 
The  wonderful  Benedictus,  (Blessed  is  he  who 
cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord)  whose  tones 
seem  to  float  down  from  heaven  to  earth,  the 
bestowal  of  help  from  on  high,  was  subse- 
quently the  model  used  by  Wagner  for  his 
descent  of  the  Holy  Grail,  the  symbol  of  di- 
vine grace,  in  the  prelude  to  the  Lohengrin. 
"When  I  recall  his  state  of  mental  excitement, 
I  must  confess  that  I  never  before,  and  never 
after  this  period  of  his  complete  forgetfulness 
of  earth,  observed  anything  like  it  in  him." 
So  says  Schindler.  They  had  gone  to  visit 
him  in  Baden,  near  by,  whither  he  repaired 
in  the  interest  of  his  health,  and  where  he 
loved  so  well  to  "wander  through  the  quiet 
forest  of  firs"  and  think  out  his  works.  It 
was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  door 
was  closed,  and  they  could  hear  him  "singing, 
howling,  stamping"  at  the  fugue.  After  they 
had  listened  to  this  "almost  horrible"  scene, 
the  door  opened,  and  Beethoven  stood  before 
them,  with  trouble  depicted  on  his  counten- 
ance. He  looked  as  if  he  had  just  gone 
through  a  struggle  of  life  and  death.  "Pretty 
doings  here ;  everybody  is  gone,  and  I  have 
10 


146  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

not  eaten  a  morsel  since  yesterday  noon,"  he 
said.  He  had  worked  the  previous  evening 
until  after  midnight ;  and  so  the  food  had 
grown  cold  and  the  servants  left  in  disgust. 

His  work  assumed  greater  and  greater  di- 
mensions as  he  himself  gradually  rose  to  the 
full  height  of  the  subject.  He  no  longer 
thought  of  completing  it  for  the  installation 
ceremonies.  It  became  a  grand  fresco  paint- 
ing— a  symphony  in  choruses  on  the  words 
of  the  mass.  He  now  began  to  work  more 
calmly,  and  to  compose  at  intervals  other 
works,  in  order  to  quiet  his  over-excited  mind 
and  to  earn  a  living  for  his  "  dear  "  nephew. 
And  thus,  while  he  was  composing  his  mass,  he 
produced  not  only  the  Variirten  Themen,  op. 
105  and  107,  which  Thompson,  of  Edinburg 
— who  had  sent  Beethoven  the  Scotch  songs 
like  op.  108  to  be  arranged — had  ordered,  but 
also  the  three  Last  Sonatas,  op.  109,  dedicated 
to  Bettina's  niece,  Maximiliane  Brentano,  to 
whose  excellent  father  he  was  indebted  for 
ready  assistance  during  these  years  of  his 
pecuniary  embarrassment ;  also  op.  110,  which 
was  finished  at  Christmas,  1821,  as  op.  Ill 
was  on  the  13th  of  January,  1822.  It  is  said 


COMPOSITIONS.  147 


that  he  entertained  a  higher  opinion  himself 
of  these  sonatas  than  of  his  previous  ones. 
They  are  greatly  superior,  however,  only  in 
some  of  their  movements;  and  they  are  written 
in  the  grand,  free  style  of  that  period,  es- 
pecially the  arietta  in  the  last  opus,  the  varia- 
tions of  which  are  real  pictures  of  his  own 
soul.  In  the  intervals  between  them,  how- 
ever, we  find  some  trifles  such  as  the  Baga- 
tellen,  op.  119.  which  his  pecuniary  condition 
made  it  imperative  he  should  compose,  since, 
"  as  a  brave  knight  by  his  sword,  he  had  to 
live  by  his  pen."  And  even  the  "33  Veraen- 
derungen"  (variations),  op.  120,  on  the  works 
of  Diabelli,  of  the  year  1822-23,  are  more  the 
intellectual  play  of  the  inexhaustible  fancy  of 
an  artist  than  the  work  of  the  genuine  gigantic 
creative  power  which  Beethoven  undoubtedly 
possessed.  He  had  overtaxed  his  strength 
working  on  the  mass,  and  thus  exhausted  it 
for  a  moment.  The  two  chorus-songs,  op. 
121 b  and  op.  122,  the  Opferlied  and  Bundes- 
lied,  which  date  from  the  year  1822-23,  bear 
the  stamp  of  occasional  compositions,  which 
they,  in  fact,  are. 

But  in  the  meantime  the  lion  had  roused 


148  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEX. 

himself  again.  He  now  only  needed  to  give 
the  finishing  touch  to  the  Mass,  and  in  the 
spring  of  1823  the  entire  work  was  completed. 
The  summer  of  1822  found  him  fully  en- 
gaged on  the  composition  of  that  monument 
to  his  genius,  the  Ninth  Symphony.  Freedom 
from  the  torment  of  exhausting  labor,  and  the 
entire  surrender  of  himself  to  "  his  own  style," 
gave  his  fancy  back  its  old  elasticity  and  all 
its  productive  power.  Scarcely  any  year  of 
his  life  was  more  prolific  of  works  than  this 
year  1822. 

"Our  Beethoven  seems  again  to  take  a 
greater  interest  in  music,  which,  since  the 
trouble  with  his  hearing  began  to  increase,  he 
avoided  almost  as  a  woman-hater  avoids  the 
sex.  To  the  great  pleasure  of  all,  he  impro- 
vised a  few  tunes  in  a  most  masterly  manner." 
Thus  do  we  read  in  the  Leipsig  Musikzeitung, 
in  the  spring  of  1822,  and  the  Englishman, 
John  Russell,  gives  us  a  charming  description 
of  such  an  evening  in  the  Cotta  Beethovenbuch. 
Weisse's  droll  poem,  Der  Kuss  (the  kiss)  op. 
128,  is  found  among  the  serious  sketches  of 
this  year.  And  now  he  received  a  whole 
series  of  commissions.  An  English  captain, 


HIS    APPEAKANCE.  149 

named  Keigersfeld,  wanted  a  quartet,  and 
Breitkopf  and  Haertel  an  operatic  poem  wor- 
thy of  his  art,  before  he  "hung  up  his  harp 
forever."  Others  asked  for  other  kinds  of 
music.  "In  short,"  he  writes  to  his  brother 
Johann,  "people  are  fighting  to  get  works  from 
me,  happy,  unhappy  man  that  I  am.  If  my 
health  is  good,  I  shall  yet  be  able  to  feather 
my  nest."  Friederich  Rochlitz  brought  him, 
too,  a  commission  from  Breitkopf  and  Haertel 
to  write  "music  for  Faust."  Rochlitz  gives 
us  a  very  interesting  account  of  Beethoven's 
appearance  and  whole  mode  of  life  at  this 
time.  Not  Beethoven's  neglected,  almost  sav- 
age exterior,  he  says,  not  his  bushy  black 
hair,  which  hung  bristling  about  his  head, 
would  have  stirred  him ;  what  stirred  him  was 
the  whole  appearance  of  the  deaf  man  who, 
notwithstanding  his  infirmity,  brought  joy  to 
the  hearts  of  millions — pure,  intellectual  joy. 
But  when  he  received  the  commission,  he 
raised  his  hand  high  up  and  exclaimed : 
"That  might  be  worth  while.  But  I  have 
been  intending  for  some  time  to  write  three 
other  great  works — two  great  symphonies,  very 
different  from  each  other,  and  an  oratorio.  I 


150  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

shudder  at  the  thought  of  beginning  works  of 
such  magnitude.  But  once  engaged  on  them, 
I  shall  find  no  difficulty."  He  spoke  of  the 
Ninth  Symphony,  to  which  he  had  now  begun 
to  give  the  finishing  touches,  in  all  earnest- 
ness. 

This  was  interrupted  for  a  short  time  by 
the  overture,  Zur  Weihe  des  Hauses  (op.  124), 
for  the  opening  of  the  renovated  Josephstadt 
theater  with  the  "  Ruins  of  Athens,"  of  1812. 
It  is  the  portal  to  the  temple  in  which  art  is 
praised  as  something  consecrated  to  the  ser- 
vice of  mankind — as  a  thing  which  may  lift 
us  for  blissful  moments  into  the  region  of  the 
purifying  and  elevating  influences  of  higher 
powers.  Even  in  this  work,  which  dates  from 
September,  1822,  we  may  hear  the  solemn 
sound  and  rhythm  of  the  Ninth  Symphony. 
And,  indeed,  after  a  memorandum  on  the 
'  'Hungarian  Story,"  we  find  in  the  sketches 
of  it  the  words,  "Finale,  Freude  schoener  Ooet- 
terfunken"  together  with  the  wonderfully  sim- 
ple melody  itself,  which  sounds  to  humanity's 
better  self  like  the  music  of  its  own  redemp- 
tion. Beethoven's  own  nature  was  deeply 
moved  at  this  time.  Weber's  Freischuetz, 


SCHROEDER-DEVRIENT.  151 

with  Wilhelmine  Schroeder,  afterwards  so 
celebrated,  had  excited  the  greatest  enthusi- 
asm. Rossini's  reception  in  Vienna  was  "like 
an  opeotheosis ; "  and  Beethoven  was  deter- 
mined to  let  the  light  of  his  genius  shine  forth, 
which  he  could  do  only  by  writing  a  work 
"in  his  own  style."  The  world  was  "  his  for 
another  evening,"  and  he  was  anxious  to  turn 
that  evening  to  account.  And,  indeed,  had 
he  not  a  world  of  sorrows  to  paint — sorrows 
which  actual  life  had  brought  to  him  ?  He 
had  also  a  world  of  joys — -joys  vouchsafed  to 
him  by  his  surrendering  of  himself  to  a  higher 
life. 

An  incident  which  occurred  during  this  fall 
of  1822  tells  us  something  of  this  gloomy  night 
of  his  personal  existence.  Young  Schroeder- 
Devrient,  encouraged  by  her  success  with 
Pamina  and  Agathe,  had  chosen  the  Fidelio 
for  her  benefit,  and  Beethoven  himself  was  to 
wield  the  baton.  Schindler  tells  us  how,  even 
during  the  first  scene  of  the  opera,  everything 
was  in  confusion,  but  that  no  one  cared  to 
utter  the  saddening  words :  "  It's  impossible 
for  you,  unfortunate  man."  Schindler  finally, 
in  response  to  Beethoven's  own  questioning, 


152  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

wrote  something  to  that  effect  down.  In  a 
trice,  Beethoven  leaped  into  the  parterre,  say- 
ing only:  "Quick,  out  of  here!"  He  ran 
without  stopping  to  his  dwelling,  threw  him- 
self on  the  sofa,  covered  his  face  with  his  two 
hands,  and  remained  in  that  position  until 
called  to  table.  But,  even  at  table,  he  did  not 
utter  a  word.  He  sat  at  it,  the  picture  of  the 
deepest  melancholy.  Schindler's  account  of 
the  incident  closes  thus :  "  In  all  my  experi- 
ence with  Beethoven,  this  November  day  is 
without  a  parallel.  It  mattered  not  what  dis- 
appointments or  crosses  misfortune  brought 
him,  he  was  ill-humored  only  for  moments, 
sometimes  depressed.  He  would,  however, 
soon  be  himself  again,  lift  his  head  proudly, 
walk  about  with  a  firm  step,  and  rule  in  the 
workshop  of  his  genius.  But  he  never  fully 
recovered  from  the  effect  of  this  blow." 

The  performance  itself  brought  out,  for 
the  first  time,  in  all  its  completeness,  musico- 
dramatic  art,  in  the  representation  of  the 
scene,  "  Kill  first  his  wife."  Eichard  Wagner, 
who  has  so  highly  developed  this  musico- 
dramatic  art,  admits  that  he  acquired  the  real 
idea  of  plastic  shaping  for  the  stage  from 


NINTH   SYMPHONY.  153 

Sckroeder-Devrient.  To  it,  also,  Beethoven 
owed  it  that  he  was  invited,  during  the  same 
winter  (1822-23),  to  compose  a  new  opera.  It 
was  Grillparzer's  Melusine,  but  the  intention 
to  compose  it  was  never  carried  into  effect. 

We  have  now  reached  the  zenith  of  the 
life  of  Beethoven  as  an  artist.  Besides  the 
Ninth  Symphony,  he  finished  only  the  five 
last  quartets  which  beam  in  their  numerous 
movements  like  "the  choir  of  stars  about  the 
sun."  The  welcome  incentive  to  the  composi- 
tion of  these  last  came  to  him  just  at  this  time 
from  the  Russian,  Prince  Gallitzin,  who  gave 
him  a  commission  to  write  them,  telling  him 
at  the  same  time  to  ask  what  remuneration  he 
wished  for  his  work.  But  the  Symphony  filled 
up  the  next  following  year,  1823.  Nothing 
else,  except  the  "  fragmentary  ideas"  of  the 
Bagatellen,  op.  126,  engaged  him  during  that 
time. 

"To  give  artistic  form  only  to  what  we 
wish  and  feel,  that  most  essential  want  of  the 
nobler  of  mankind,"  it  is,  as  he  wrote  himself 
to  the  Archduke  at  this  time,  that  distin- 
guishes this  mighty  symphony,  and  consti- 
tutes, so  to  speak,  the  sum  and  substance  of 


154  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

his  owii  life  and  intuition.  This  symphony 
was  soon  connected  in  popular  imagination 
with  Goethe's  Faust,  as  representing  the  tragic 
course  of  human  existence. 

And  when  we  bear  in  mind  how  closely 
related  just  here  the  musician  was  to  the  poet, 
this  interpretation  of  the  work,  given  first  by 
Richard  Wagner  on  the  occasion  of  its  pre- 
sentation in  1846  in  Dresden,  seems  entirely 
warranted.  What  was  there  of  which  life  had 
not  deprived  him  ?  The  words  it  had  always 
addressed  to  him  were  these  words  from  Faust : 
Entbehren  sollst  du,  sollst  entbehren  (renounce 
thou  must,  thou  must  renounce).  He  now 
wished  to  paint  a  full  picture  of  this  vain 
struggle  with  relentless  fate  in  tones,  and  what 
he  had  just  gone  through  in  his  own  experi- 
ence enabled  him  to  do  it  in  living  colors.  All 
the  recollections  of  his  youth  crowded  upon 
him.  There  were  the  "  pretty  lively  blonde  " 
whom  he  had  met  in  Bonn;  Countess  Giu- 
lietta,  who  had  a  short  time  before  returned 
to  Bonn  with  her  husband;  and  his  "distant 
loved  one"  in  Berlin !  A  promenade  through 
the  lovely  Heiligenstadt  valley,  in  the  spring 
of  1823,  brought  to  his  mind  anew  pictures 


STRANGE   CONDUCT.  155 

of  the  reconciling  power  of  nature,  as  well  as 
of  the  Pastorale  and  the  C  minor  symphony. 
He  was  now  able  to  form  an  idea  of  their 
common  meaning,  and  to  put  an  interpretation 
on  them  very  different  from  his  first  idea  and 
first  interpretation  of  them.  He  began  to  have 
a  much  deeper  insight  into  the  ultimate  ques- 
tions and  enigmas  of  existence. 

But,  all  of  a  sudden,  his  humor  left  him. 
He  refused  to  receive  any  visitors.  "  Samothra- 
cians,  come  not  here;  bring  no  one  to  me," 
he  wrote  to  Schindler,  from  the  scene  of  his 
quiet  life  in  the  country.  What  had  never 
happened  before,  even  when  he  was  in  the 
highest  stages  of  intellectual  exaltation,  now 
came  to  pass:  he  repeatedly  returned  from  his 
wanderings  through  the  woods  and  fields  with- 
out his  hat  "  There  is  nothing  higher  than 
to  approach  nearer  to  the  Deity  than  other 
men,  and  from  such  proximity  to  spread  the 
rays  of  the  Deity  among  the  human  race/1 
In  these  words,  directed  to  the  Archduke 
Rudolph,  he  summed  up  his  views  of  his  art 
and  what  he  wished  to  accomplish  in  it  It 
was  everything  to  him — a  language,  consola- 
tion, admonition,  light  and  prophecy. 


156  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

This  we  learn  most  clearly  from  the  Ninth 
Symphony,  which  he  finished  at  this  time,  in 
Baden. 

From  the  dark  abyss  of  nothing  arises  the 
Will,  infinite  Will ;  and  with  it  the  struggles 
and  the  sorrow  of  life.  But  it  is  no  longer 
personal  sorrow — for  what  is  personal  sorrow 
compared  with  the  sorrow  of  the  world  as 
known  to  a  great  mind,  experienced  by  a  great 
heart  ? — it  is  the  struggle  for  a  higher  exis- 
tence which  we  "mortals  have  to  engage  in 
against  the  infinite  spirit."  "Many  a  time 
did  I  curse  my  Creator  because  he  has  made 
his  creatures  the  victims  of  the  merest  acci- 
dents." Cries  of  anguish  and  anger  like  this — 
the  cries  of  great  souls  whose  broad  vision  is 
narrowed  by  the  world,  and  whose  powerful 
will  is  hampered — find  utterance  here.  "I 
shall  take  fate  by  the  jaws,"  he  says  again, 
and  how  immense  is  the  struggle  as  well  as 
the  consciousness  of  a  higher,  inalienable  pos- 
session, which  lives  as  a  promise  in  the  breasts 
of  all!  Such  blows,  murmurs,  prayers,  long- 
ings, such  despair ;  and  then,  again,  such 
strength  and  courage  after  trial,  had  never 
before  been  expressed  in  music.  In  the 


NINTH   SYMPHONY.  157 

Ninth  Symphony,  we  hear  the  voices  of  the 
powers  which  through  all  ages  have  been  the 
makers  of  history  ;  of  the  powers  which  pre- 
serve and  renovate  the  life  of  humanity;  and 
so  the  Will,  the  Intellect,  man,  after  a  terrible 
effort  and  concentration  of  self,  stands  firmly 
before  us,  bold  and  clear-eyed — for  Will  is 
the  world  itself. 

But  when  we  see  the  man  Beethoven,  we 
find  him  divided  against  himself.  We  have 
often  heard  him  say  that  he  found  the  world 
detestable ;  and  we  shall  again  hear  him  ex- 
press his  opinion  on  that  subject  plainly 
enough,  in  this  his  work. 

In  the  second  movement,  which  he  himself 
calls  only  allegro  vivace,  and  which,  indeed,  is 
no  scherzo,  not  even  a  Beethoven-like  one, 
but  rather  a  painting,  we  have  a  dramatic 
picture  of  the  earthly  world  in  the  whirl  of 
its  pleasures,  from  the  most  ingenuous  joy  of 
mere  existence — such  as  he  himself  frequently 
experienced  in  such  fullness  that  he  leaped 
over  chairs  and  tables — to  the  raging,  uncon- 
trollable Bacchanalian  intoxication  of  enjoy- 
ment. But  we  have  in  it  also  a  fresco-paint- 
ing of  the  "dear  calmness  of  life,"  of  joy  in 


158  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

the  existing,  of  exultation  and  jubilation  as 
well  as  of  the  demoniacal  in  sensuous  life  and 
pleasure.  But  what  nutriment  and  satisfaction 
this  splendid  symphony  affords  to  a  noble 
mind !  It  carries  such  a  man  from  the  arms  of 
pleasure  to  "the  stars,"  from  art  to  nature, 
from  appearance  to  reality. 

This  ideal  kingdom  of  the  quiet,  sublime 
order  of  the  world,  which  calms  our  minds 
and  senses,  and  expresses  our  infinite  long- 
ings, is  heard  in  the  adagio  of  the  work.  And 
when,  in  an  incomparably  poetical  union  to 
the  quiet  course  of  the  stars  and  to  the  etern- 
ally ordered  course  of  things,  the  longing, 
perturbed  human  heart  is  contrasted  by  a 
second  melody,  with  a  wealth  of  inner  beauty 
never  before  imagined,  we  at  last  see  the  soul, 
so  to  speak,  disappear  entirely  before  itself, 
dissolved  in  the  sublimity  of  the  All.  The 
steps  of  time,  expressed  by  the  rhythm  of  the 
final  chords,  sound  like  the  death  knell  of  the 
human  heart.  Its  wants  and  wishes  are  silenced 
in  the  presence  of  such  sublimity,  and  sink  to 
naught. 

But  the  world  is  man,  is  the  heart,  and 
wants  to  live,  to  live !  And  so  here  the  final 


NINTH   SYMPHONY.  159 

echo  is  still  the  longing,  sounding  tones  of 
human  feeling. 

Beethoven  himself  tells  us  the  rest  of  the 
development  of  this  powerful  tragedy,  and 
thus  confirms  the  explanation  of  it  we  have 
given,  as  well  as  the  persistence  of  ultimate 
truth  in  his  own  heart ;  for  in  it  we  find — after 
the  almost  raging  cry  of  all  earthly  existence 
in  the  orchestral  storm  of  the  beginning  of 
the  finale,  which  was  even  then  called  a  "feast 
of  scorn  at  all  that  is  styled  human  joy" — in 
the  sketches,  as  text  to  the  powerful  recitatives 
of  the  contra-bassos :  "  No,  this  confusion  re- 
minds us  of  our  despairing  condition.  This  is 
a  magnificent  day.  Let  us  celebrate  it  with 
song."  And  then  follows  the  theme  of  the 
first  movement :  "  O  no,  it  is  not  this ;  it  is 
something  else  that  I  am  craving."  "The  will 
and  consciousness  of  man  are  at  variance  the 
one  with  the  other,  and  the  cause  of  man's 
despairing  situation."  Next  comes  the  motive 
for  the  scherzo :  "  Nor  is  it  this  thing  either ; 
it  is  but  merriness  and  small  talk" — the  trifles 
of  sensuous  pleasure.  Next  comes  the  theme  of 
the  adagio :  "  Nor  is  it  this  thing  either,"  and 
thereupon  the  words :  "  I  myself  shall  sing — 


160  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

music  must  console  us,  music  must  cheer  us ;  " 
and  then  the  melody,  Freude  schoener  Goet- 
terfunken,  is  heard,  expressive  of  the  newly 
won  peace  of  the  soul,  descriptive  of  human 
character  in  the  full  beauty  of  its  simplicity 
and  innocence  restored.  Beethoven  knew  from 
what  depths  of  human  nature  music  was  born, 
and  what  its  ultimate  meaning  to  mankind  is. 
We  are  made  to  experience  this  more  fully 
still  by  the  continuation  of  the  finale  which 
represents  the  solution  of  the  conflict  of  this 
tragedy  of  life.  For  the  "joy"  that  is  here 
sung  plainly  springs  from  its  only  pure  and 
lasting  source,  from  the  feeling  of  all-embrac- 
ing love — that  feeling  which,  as  religion,  fills 
the  heart.  The  Ihrstuertz  nieder  Millionen 
is  the  foundation,  the  germ  (to  express  it  in 
the  language  of  music  of  double  counter- 
point) of  the  Seid  umschlungen,  Millionen, 
and  then  the  whole  sings  of  joy  as  the  trans- 
figuration of  the  earthly  world  by  eternal  love. 
The  will  can  accomplish  nothing  greater  than 
to  sacrifice  itself  for  the  good  of  the  whole. 
To  our  great  artist,  the  greatest  and  most  won- 
derful phenomenon  in  the  world  was  not  the 
conqueror  but  the  overcomer  of  the  world ; 


NINTH    SYMPHONY.  161 

and  he  knew  that  this  spirit  of  love  cannot  die. 
This  is  celebrated  by  the  finale  as  the  last 
consequence  of  the  "  struggle  with  fate,"  of 
man's  life-struggle.  Is  it  claiming  too  much 
to  say  that  out  of  the  spirit  of  this  music  a 
"  new  civilization "  and  an  existence  more 
worthy  of  human  beings  might  be  developed, 
since  it  leads  us  back  to  the  foundation  and 
source  of  civilization  and  human  existence — 
to  religion?  Beethoven  was  one  of  those 
great  minds  who  have  added  to  the  intellectual 
possessions  of  our  race  in  regions  which  ex- 
tend far  beyond  the  merely  beautiful  in  art. 
When  we  bear  this  in  mind,  we  can  under- 
stand why  he  wanted  to  write  a  tenth  sym- 
phony as  the  counterpart  and  final  representa- 
tion of  these  highest  conceptions  of  the  nature 
and  goal  of  our  race.  This  tentn  symphony 
he  intended  should  transfigure  the  merely  hu- 
manly beautiful  of  the  antique  world  in  the 
light  of  the  refined  humanity  of  modern  ideas — 
the  earthly  in  the  light  of  the  heavenly.  And 
we  may  understand,  too,  what  we  are  told  of 
himself,  that  as  soon  as  cheerfulness  beamed 
in  his  countenance,  it  shed  about  him  all  the 
charms  of  childlike  innocence.  "When  he 
11 


162  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

smiled,"  we  are  told,  "people  believed  not 
only  in  him,  but  in  humanity."  Occasionally 
there  would  blossom  on  his  lips  a  smile  which 
those  who  saw  could  find  no  other  word  to  de- 
scribe but  "  heavenly."  So  full  was  his  heart 
of  hearts  of  the  highest  treasure  of  humanity. 

We  shall  see  how  the  last  quartets,  which 
follow  now,  represent  this,  his  sublime  trans- 
figured condition  of  soul,  in  the  most  varied 
pictures,  and  disclose  it  to  the  very  bottom. 

Of  works  composed  during  this  period,  we 
may  mention :  March  to  "  Tarpeja  "  and  the 
Bardengeist  composed  in  1813 ;  Gute  Nach- 
richt,  Elegischer  Gesang,  Kriegers  Abschied, 
composed  in  1814;  Duos  for  the  clarionette  and 
bassoon,  which  appeared  in  1815;  Es  ist  voll- 
bracht,  Sehnsucht,  Scotch  songs,  composed  in 
1815 ;  Der  Mann  von  Wort,  op.  99.  Militaer- 
marsch,  composed  in  1816;  quintet  op.  104 
(after  op.  1,  III),  composed  in  1817;  Clavier- 
stueck  in  B,  composed  in  1818;  Gratulations- 
menuet,  composed  in  1822.  It  will  be  noticed 
that  the  number  of  his  works  grows  steadily 
smaller  according  as  their  volume  or  their 
depth  of  meaning  grows  greater.  This  last  will 
be  evident  especially  from  his  subsequent  quar- 
tets which,  so  to  speak,  stand  entirely  alone. 


CHAPTER  V. 

1824—27. 
THE  LAST  QUARTETS. 

Berlioz  on  the  Lot  of  Artists — Beethoven  Misunderstood — The 
Great  Concert  of  May,  1824 — Preparation  for  It — Small 
Returns — Beethoven  Appreciated — First  Performance  of 
the  Missa  Solemnis  and  of  the  Ninth  Symphony — The 
Quartets — An  "  Oratorio  for  Boston  " — Overture  on 
B-A-C-H — Influence  of  His  Personal  Experience  on  His 
Works — His  Brother  Johann — Postponement  of  His  Jour- 
ney to  London — Presentiment  of  Death — The  Restoration 
of  Metternich  and  Gentz — His  "  Son  " — Troubles  with  the 
Young  Man — Debility — Calls  for  Dr.  Malfatti — Poverty — 
The  "Magnanimous"  English — Calls  a  Clergyman — His 
Death. 

"  NOBLE  souls  fall  usually  only  because  they 
do  not  know  the  mournful  but  incontestable 
truth  that,  considering  our  present  customs 
and  political  institutions,  the  artist  has  more 
to  suffer  in  proportion  as  he  is  a  genuine  ar- 
tist. The  more  original  and  gigantic  his 
works  are,  the  more  severely  is  he  punished 
for  the  effects  they  produce.  The  swifter  and 
sublimer  his  thoughts,  the  more  does  he  van- 
ish from  the  dim  vision  of  the  multitude." 
(163) 


164  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

Thus  did  Beethoven's  direct  successor  in  art, 
Hector  Berlioz,  complain  at  the  end  of  his 
days;  and  to  whom  can  what  he  says  here  be 
applied  with  more  propriety  than  to  our  artist, 
especially  at  this  period  of  his  life,  when  his 
thoughts  took  their  sublimest  flight?  His 
action  now  seemed  indeed  to  assure  him  un- 
conditional victory,  even  in  his  immediate 
environment — we  are  approaching  the  cele- 
brated concert  of  May,  1824 — but  how  soon 
shall  we  see  him  again  misunderstood  by  the 
crowd  and,  as  a  consequence,  lonelier  than  ever 
before. 

He  had  again  enjoyed  to  the  full  the  "  high- 
er life  which  art  and  science  imply,  and  which 
they  give  it  to  us  to  hope  for ;"  and  he,  in 
consequence,  became  exceedingly  neglectful  of 
himself;  so  that  his  brother  found  it  necessary 
to  say  to  him :  "  You  must  buy  yourself  a  new 
hat  to-morrow.  The  people  make  merry  at  your 
expense  because  you  have  so  bad  a  hat."  But 
now  that  the  "  colossal  creation  "  was  finished, 
even  to  the  last  iota,  he  began  to  be  in  better 
humor,  to  stroll  about  the  streets  gazing  at  the 
show-windows,  and  to  salute  many  an  old 
friend,  as,  for  instance,  his  former  teacher, 


ART   IN   VIENNA.  165 

Schenk,  more  warmly.  His  name  was  now 
more  frequently  on  the  lips  of  friends,  and 
when  it  was  known  that  a  great  symphony,  as 
well  as  the  Mass,  was  finished,  people  recalled 
the  boundless  rapture  of  the  years  1813-14 ; 
and  a  letter  signed  by  men  of  the  higher 
classes  of  society — men  whom  Beethoven  him- 
self loved  and  honored — invited  him,  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1824,  to  abstain  no  longer  from  the 
performance  of  something  great.  And,  in- 
deed, the  Italian  roulade  and  all  kinds  of 
purely  external  bravoura  had  obtained  suprem- 
acy in  Vienna.  The  "  second  childhood  of 
taste  "  threatened  to  follow  the  "  golden  age 
of  art."  It  was  hoped  that  home  art  would 
receive  new  life  from  Beethoven,  who,  in  his 
own  sphere,  had  no  equal,  and  that,  thanks  to 
his  influence,  the  true  and  the  beautiful  would 
rule  supreme  again. 

Schindler  found  him  with  the  manuscript 
in  his  hand.  "  It  is  very  pretty !  I  am  glad !" 
Beethoven  said,  in  a  very  peculiar  tone.  And 
another  hope  was  bound  up  with  this.  He 
hoped  to  obtain  compensation  for  his  long 
labor,  and,  in  this  way,  leisure  to  produce 
something  new  worthy  of  his  genius.  The  pre- 


166  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

paration  for  the  concert  was  attended  by  very 
much  that  was  disagreeable.  His  own  want  of 
resolution  and  suspicious  manner  contributed 
their  share  to  this.  With  the  most  splenetic 
humor,  he  writes :  "After  six  weeks'  vexation, 
I  am  boiled,  stewed,  roasted."  And  when 
several  of  his  more  intimate  friends,  like  Count 
Lichnowsky,  Schuppanzigh  and  Schindler,  re- 
sorted to  a  little  subterfuge  to  make  him  come 
to  some  resolve,  he  said :  "  I  despise  deceit. 
Visit  me  no  more.  And  let  him  visit  me  no 
more.  I'm  not  giving  a  party."  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  first  violinists  of  the  city — 
Schuppanzigh,  Mayseder  and  Boehm,  who  is 
still  living — together  with  capellmeister  Um- 
lauf,  were  at  the  head  of  the  orchestra,  while 
a  large  number  of  amateurs  were  ready  to  lend 
their  assistance  at  a  moment's  notice.  Their 
motto  was:  "Anything  and  everything  for 
Beethoven!"  And  thus  the  preparations  for 
the  performance  of  Beethoven's  great  crea- 
tions were  begun. 

"Just  as  if  there  were  words  beneath  them?" 
asked  Schindler,  speaking  of  the  powerful  rec- 
itatives of  the  basses  in  the  Ninth  Symphony. 
Henriette  Sontag  and  Caroline  Unger,  both 


THE   MASS.  167 


subsequently  so  celebrated,  found  it  exceed- 
ingly difficult  to  execute  the  solos  in  the  Mass 
and  the  finale;  but  to  all  prayers  that  they 
might  be  changed,  Beethoven  had  only  one 
answer:  "No!"  To  which  Henriette  finally 
replied:  "Well,  in  God's  name,  let  us  torment 
ourselves  a  little  longer,  take  a  little  more 
trouble,  and  attempt  it."  The  performance 
was  to  occur  on  the  7th  of  May.  That  "rare, 
noble  man,"  Brunswick  had,  as  he  said,  brought 
"four  ears"  with  him,  that  he  might  not  lose  a 
single  note.  Frau  von  Ertmann  was  again  in 
Vienna.  The  boxes  were  all  soon  taken,  and 
many  seats  were  sold  at  a  premium.  Beetho- 
ven personally  invited  the  court.  His  trusted 
servant,  who  was  specially  helpful  to  him  on 
this  occasion,  said  to  him:  "We  shall  take 
your  green  coat  with  us,  too;  the  theater  is 
dark;  no  one  can  see  us.  O  my  great  master, 
not  a  black  dress  coat  have  you  in  your  pos- 
session." The  house  was  crowded  to  over- 
fullness.  Only  the  court  box  was  almost  empty, 
on  account  of  the  Emperor's  absence.  Bee- 
thoven's attendant  again  tells  us:  "His  recep- 
tion was  more  than  imperial;  at  the  fourth 
round  of  applause,  the  people  became  vocifer- 


168  THE   LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

ous."  And  Boehm  tells  us  how  the  tears 
rushed  into  his  own  and  Mayseder's  eyes  at 
the  very  beginning.  And  what  a  success  the 
performance  was! 

In  one  of  the  accounts  of  it  that  have  come 
down  to  us,  we  read :  "  Never  in  my  life  did 
I  hear  such  tempestuous  and  at  the  same  time 
such  hearty  applause.  At  one  place — where 
the  kettle-drums  so  boldly  take  up  the  rhyth- 
mic motive  alone — the  second  movement  of 
the  symphony  was  totally  interrupted  by  the 
applause ;  the  tears  stood  in  the  eyes  of  the 
performers ;  Beethoven,  however,  contrived  to 
wield  the  baton  until  Umlauf  called  his  atten- 
tion to  the  action  of  the  audience  by  a  motion 
of  his  hand.  He  looked  at  them  and  bowed 
in  a  very  composed  way."  At  the  close  the 
applause  was  greater  still.  Yet,  strange  to 
say,  the  man  who  was  the  cause  of  it  all  again 
turned  his  back  to  the  enthusiastic  audience. 
At  this  juncture,  the  happy  thought  occurred 
to  Unger  to  wheel  Beethoven  about  towards 
the  audience,  and  to  ask  him  .to  notice  their 
applause  with  their  waving  of  hats  and  hand- 
kerchiefs. He  testified  his  gratitude  simply 
by  bowing,  and  this  was  the  signal  for  the 


DISAPPOINTMENT.  169 

breaking  forth  of  a  jubilation  such  as  had 
scarcely  ever  before  been  heard  in  a  theater, 
and  which  it  seemed  would  never  end.  The 
next  day,  we  read,  in  his  conversation  leaves, 
what  some  one  said  to  him :  "  Everybody  is 
shattered  and  crushed  by  the  magnitude  of 
your  works." 

And  now,  what  of  the  pecuniary  success  of 
the  performance?  It  was  measured  by  about 
one  hundred  and  twenty  marks.  The  expenses 
attending  it  had  been  too  great.  Besides,  reg- 
ular subscribers,  entitled  to  their  seats  in  boxes, 
did  not  pay  a  farthing  for  this  concert.  The 
court  did  not  send  in  a  penny,  which,  however, 
they  were  wont  not  to  fail  to  do  on  the  occasion 
of  the  commonest  benefits.  When  Beethoven 
reached  his  home,  Schindler  handed  him  the 
account  of  the  receipts.  "  When  he  saw  it,  he 
broke  down  entirely.  We  took  him  and  laid 
him  on  the  sofa.  We  remained  at  his  side 
until  late  in  the  night.  He  asked  neither  for 
food  nor  for  anything  else.  Not  an  audible 
word  did  he  utter.  At  last,  when  we  observed 
that  Morpheus  had  gently  closed  his  eyes,  we 
retired.  His  servant  found  him  next  morning 
in  his  concert  toilette  (his  green  dress  coat) 


170  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

in  the  same  place,  asleep."  This  account  is 
by  Schindler,  who,  together  with  the  young 
official,  Joseph  Huettenbrenner,  one  of  Franz 
Schubert's  intimate  friends,  had  taken  him 
home  on  this  occasion. 

This  was  the  first  performance  of  the  Missa 
Solemnis  (op.  123)  and  of  the  Ninth  Sympho- 
ny (op.  125).  It  took  place  on  the  7th  of  May, 
1824.  The  fact  that  when  the  performance 
was  repeated  on  the  24th  of  May,  spite  of  the 
additional  attraction  of  the  "adored"  tenor, 
David,  who  sang  Rossini's  Di  tanti  palpiti, 
(after  so  much  pain),  the  house  was  half  emp- 
ty, shows  that,  after  all,  it  was  more  curiosity 
to  see  the  celebrated  deaf  man  than  real  taste 
for  art  which  had  filled  it  the  first  time.  Like 
Mozart,  Beethoven  did  not  live  long  enough  to 
pluck  even  the  pecuniary  fruits  of  his  genius. 
Not  till  1845  did  the  magnanimous  liberality 
of  one  who  was  really  permeated  by  his  spirit 
bring  it  to  pass  that  a  monument  was  erected 
to  him  in  his  native  city,  Bonn,  as  that  same 
liberality  has  brought  it  to  pass  that  one  has 
been  erected  to  him,  in  our  own  day,  in  his 
second  home,  Vienna.  We  have  reference  to 
the  royal  gift  and  to  the  equally  rich  playing 
of  Franz  Liszt. 


PROJECTS.  171 


It  now  became  more  imperative  for  him  to 
give  his  attention  to  those  compositions  which 
promised  him  some  immediate  return,  to  the 
quartets,  to  write  which  he  had  received  a 
commission  from  persons  as  noted  for  their 
generosity  to  him  as  for  their  love  of  art. 
These  and  the  op.  127  occupy  the  first 
place  in  this  brilliant  constellation  of  art. 
"I  am  not  writing  what  I  should  prefer 
to  write.  I  am  writing  for  the  money  I 
need.  When  that  end  is  satisfied,  I  hope 
to  write  what  is  of  most  importance  to 
myself  and  to  art — Faust."  He  thus  ex- 
pressed himself  when  engaged  in  the  com- 
position of  the  Ninth  Symphony,  and  there 
was  some  talk  of  his  writing  an  "Oratorio  for 
Boston."  And  so,  likewise,  the  German  Melu- 
sine  and  an  opera  for  Naples,  the  Requiem, 
the  tenth  symphony,  and  an  overture  on 
B-A-C-H  remained  projects  and  no  more. 
But  they  were  also  a  great  prospect  for  the  fu- 
ture while  he  was  engaged  in  the  labors  of 
the  day;  and  they  exercised  no  inconsiderable 
influence  on  the  composition  of  the  quartets 
themselves.  The  more  he  became  interested 
in  these  works — and  what  works  were  better 


172  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

calculated  to  interest  a  composer  of  such  po- 
etic power — the  more  did  these  ideas  become 
interwoven  into  the  works  themselves.  They 
generated  the  peculiarly  grand  style  and 
the  monumental  character  which  distinguish 
these  last  quartets.  The  soul-pictures  from 
Faust  especially  are  here  eloquently  re-echoed , 
in  the  most  sublime  monologues.  And,  in- 
deed, the  Prince,  who  had  given  him  the  com- 
mission to  write  them,  seemed  to  be  the  very 
man  to  induce  Beethoven  to  achieve  what  was 
highest  and  best  in  art,  even  in  such  a  narrow 
sphere.  For  he  had  so  arranged  it  that,  even 
before  its  production  in  Vienna,  that  "sublime 
masterpiece,"  the  Mass,  was  publicly  performed. 
He  informs  us  that  the  effect  on  the  public 
was  indescribable;  that  he  had  never  before 
heard  anything,  not  even  of  Mozart's  music, 
which  had  so  stirred  his  soul;  that  Bee- 
thoven's genius  was  centuries  in  advance  of 
his  age,  and  that  probably  there  was  not 
among  his  hearers  a  single  one  enlightened 
enough  to  take  in  the  full  beauty  of  his  mu- 
sic. On  the  other  hand,  there  reigned  in 
Vienna  that  weak  revelry  of  the  period  of  the 
restoration,  with  its  idol  Rossini,  a  revelry 


COMPOSITIONS.  173 


which  had  driven  all  noble  and  serious  music 
into  the  background.  Besides,  the  Prince  had 
ordered  that  the  costs  for  musical  composition 
should  be  curtailed  "to  any  desired  sum." 

Beethoven  now  went  to  work  in  earnest, 
and  this  composition  was  destined  to  be  his 
last. 

He  had  already  made  a  great  many  drafts 
of  the  works  above  mentioned,  one  for  op.  127 
in  the  summer  of  1822,  one  for  the  succeeding 
quartet  in  A  minor  (op.  131),  in  the  year 
1823,  when  he  was  completing  the  Ninth 
Symphony.  Both  op.  127  and  the  quartet 
in  A  minor  remind  us,  in  more  ways  than 
one,  of  the  style  of  the  Ninth  Symphony — the 
latter  by  its  passion  so  full  of  pain,  the  former, 
with  its  adagio,  where  the  longing  glances 
to  the  stars  have  generated  a  wonderful, 
melancholy  peace  of  soul.  The  immediately 
following  third  quartet  (op.  130)  stands  out 
before  us  like  a  newly  created  world,  but  one 
which  is  "not  of  this  world."  And,  indeed, 
the  events  in  Beethoven's  life  became  calcu- 
lated more  and  more  to  liberate  him,  heart 
and  soul,  from  this  world,  and  the  whole  com- 
position of  the  quartets  appears  like  a  pre- 


174  THE   LIFE  OF   BEETHOVEN. 

paration  for  the  moment  when  the  mind, 
released  from  existence  here,  feels  united  with 
a  higher  being.  But  it  is  not  a  painfully 
happy  longing  for  death  that  here  finds  ex- 
pression. It  is  the  heartfelt,  certain  and 
joyful  feeling  of  something  really  eternal  and 
holy  that  speaks  to  us  in  the  language  of  a 
new  dispensation.  And  even  the  pictures  of 
the  world  here  to  be  found,  be  they  serious  or 
gay,  have  this  transfigured  light — this  out- 
look into  eternity.  There  is  little  in  the 
world  of  art,  in  which  the  nature  of  the 
religious  appears  so  fully  in  its  substance  and 
essence  without  showing  itself  at  any  time 
otherwise  than  purely  human,  and  therefore 
imperishable — never  clothed  in  an  accidental 
and  perishable  garb.  This  explains  how  a 
people  not  noted  for  any  musical  genius,  but 
who  are  able  to  understand  the  spirit  and 
meaning  of  music,  the  English,  whom  Bee- 
thoven himself  esteemed  so  highly,  considered 
his  music  "so  religious."  And,  indeed,  his 
music  is  religious  in  its  ultimate  meaning  and 
spirit.  This  character  of  his  music  finds  its 
purest  and  most  striking  expression  in  the  last 
quartets;  and  these  quartets  enable  us  to 


DOMESTIC   TROUBLES.  175 

understand  the  saying  of  Richard  Wagner, 
Beethoven's  truest  pupil  and  successor,  that 
our  civilization  might  receive  a  new  soul  from 
the  spirit  of  this  music,  and  a  renovation  of 
religion  which  might  permeate  it  through  and 
through. 

We  now  pass  to  an  account  of  the  details 
of  the  origin  of  these  works. 

The  bitterness  which  Beethoven  was  des- 
tined henceforth  to  taste  proceeded  for  the 
most  part  from  his  own  relatives.  "God  is 
my  witness,  my  only  dream  is  to  get  away 
entirely  from  you,  from  my  miserable  brother, 
and  from  this  despicable  family  which  has 
been  tied  to  me,"  he  writes,  in  1825,  to  his 
growing  nephew.  We  cannot  refrain  from 
touching  on  these  sad  things,  because  now, 
especially,  they  exercised  the  greatest  influ- 
ence on  his  mind  and  on  his  pecuniary  cir- 
cumstances, and  because  they  finally  led  to  a 
catastrophe  which  played  a  part  in  bringing 
about  his  premature  death. 

His  weak  and  "  somewhat  money-loving" 
brother,  Johann,  had,  indeed,  in  consequence 
of  Beethoven's  own  violent  moral  interference, 
married  a  silly  wife.  He  found  it  impossible 


176  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

to  control  her  course,  or  even  to  get  a  divorce 
from  her,  because  he  had  made  over  to  her  a 
part  of  his  property,  and  was  "inflexible"  on 
this  very  point.  And  so  the  brother  was  not 
able,  spite  of  many  invitations,  to  induce 
Beethoven  to  visit  him  even  once  on  his  estate 
of  Wasserhof,  near  Gneixendorf,  on  the  Dan- 
ube. Ludwig  wrote  him,  in  the  summer  of 
1823:  "O  accursed  shame  I  Have  you  not  a 
spark  of  manhood  in  you  ?  Shall  I  debase  my- 
self by  entering  such  company?"  Yet,  his 
sister-in-law  was  "  tamed  "  by  degrees.  But 
the  mother  of  the  boy  continued,  now  that  he 
was  beginning  to  mature,  to  draw  him  into  her 
own  baneful  circle,  and,  as  Beethoven  wrote 
in  the  summer  of  1824,  into  the  poisonous 
breath  of  the  dragon;  and  levity,  falsehood 
and  unbecoming  behavior  towards  his  uncle, 
who  was  at  the  same  time  a  father  to  him, 
followed.  Carried  away  by  the  impulses  of 
his  moral  feelings,  the  latter  was  severe  even 
to  harshness  with  the  boy,  and  yet  could  not 
dispense  with  the  young  man's  company  be- 
cause of  his  increasing  age  and  isolation.  The 
natural  craving  for  love,  moral  severity  and 
the  consciousness  of  paternal  duty,  wove  the 


LONDON.  177 

texture  of  which  our  artist's  shroud  was  made. 
The  correspondence  of  this  year,  1824, 
turns  principally  upon  the  pecuniary  realiza- 
tion from  his  new,  great  works  ;  for  he  wanted 
to  be  in  London  in  the  fall  without  fail.  We 
have  also  a  letter  of  his  about  his  will,  to  his 
lawyer,  Dr.  Bach,  dated  in  the  summer.  He 
writes:  "Only  in  divine  art  is  the  power 
which  gives  me  the  strength  to  sacrifice  to  the 
heavenly  muses  the  best  part  of  my  life." 
We  hear  also  the  celestial  sounds  of  the 
adagio,  op.  127,  ringing  in  our  ears.  He  was 
himself  filled  with  this  true  "  manna ;  "  for 
he  exclaims  in  these  same  summer  days, 
"Apollo  and  the  muses  will  not  yet  allow  me 
to  be  delivered  over  to  the  hands  of  death,  for 
I  yet  owe  them  what  the  Spirit  inspires  me 
with  and  commands  me  to  finish.  I  feel  as  if 
I  had  written  scarcely  a  note."  And  we 
even  now  find  the  sketches  of  those  pieces 
expressive  of  a  happiness  more  than  earthly, 
or  else,  in  gay  irony,  of  contempt  for  the  ex- 
isting world,  or  of  the  mighty  building  up  of 
a  new  world  ;  the  alia  danza  tedesca  and  the 
poco  scherzando  of  op.  130,  as  well  as  the 
great  fugue,  op.  133,  which  was  intended  to 
12 


178  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

be  the  original  finale  of  op.  130,  and  which, 
by  its  superscription,  "overture"  and  the 
gigantic  strides  in  its  theme,  reminds  us  of 
the  plan  of  the  £achouverture.  Even  the  un- 
speakably deep  melancholy  and,  at  the  same 
time,  blissful,  hopeful  cavatine  of  the  same 
third  quartet  op.  130,  blossoms  forth  now 
from  the  feeling  of  his  heart,  which  has  taken 
into  itself  the  full  meaning  of  the  eternal,  and 
is  filled  with  a  higher  joy.  We  here  find,  as 
in  the  last  tones  of  Mozart's  soul,  the  germs 
of  a  new  and  deep-felt  language  of  the  heart, 
a  real  personal  language,  acquired  to  human- 
ity for  the  expression  of  its  deepest  secrets,  and 
which,  in  our  own  day,  has  led  to  the  most 
touching  soul-pictures  in  art — to  the  transfig- 
uration of  Isolde,  and  to  Bruennhild's  dying 
song  of  redeeming  love. 

A  mighty  seriousness  overpowers  him.  The 
desolate  horrors  that  surround  him  endow  him 
with  the  power  to  understand  more  clearly 
the  higher  tasks  of  the  mind  in  which  his 
art  had  a  living  part.  We  see  plainly  that 
his  nature  tends  more  and  more  towards  the 
one  thing  necessary — "  All  love  is  sympa- 
thy," sympathy  with  the  sorrows  of  the  world, 


CHARACTERISTICS.  179 

says  the  philosopher.  And  so  while  his  vis- 
ion takes  an  immense  sweep  over  the  field 
of  existence,  we  see  that  an  inexhaustible 
source  of  patient  goodness  and  of  the  kindest 
and  most  heart-felt  love,  springs,  up  within 
him.  "  From  childhood  up  it  was  my  great- 
est happiness  to  be  able  to  work  for  others," 
he  once  said;  and  again  when  the  overture, 
op.  24,  was  reproduced:  "I  was  very  much 
praised  on  this  account,  etc.  But  what  is 
that  all  to  the  great  Master  of  Tones  above — 
above — above!  rightly  the  Most  High,  when 
here  below  it  is  used  only  for  purposes  of  rid- 
icule. Most  high  dwarfs ! ! ! "  We  here  listen 
to  the  sublime  irony  of  his  tones  in  op.  130, 
but  also  to  the  lustrous  mildness  of  the  adagio 
of  op.  127,  in  which  in  the  little  movement  in 
E  major,  the  human  soul  itself,  filled  with  the 
spirit  of  the  Eternal,  so  to  speak,  opens  its  eyes 
and  looks  upward.  "I  am  what  is,  I  am  all 
that  is,  that  was  and  that  will  be.  No  mortal 
man  has  lifted  my  veil.  He  comes  from  Him- 
self alone,  and  to  this  Only  One  all  things 
owe  their  existence."  Beethoven  wrote  out 
this  Egyptian  saying  in  this  summer  of  1824, 
framed  it  and  placed  it  on  his  writing  table 


180  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

before  him.  He  well  knew  what  the  really 
creative  and  preserving  deity  in  human  life 
is.  That  deity  lived  in  his  own  most  heartfelt 
thought  and  feeling.  It  was  to  him  a  contin- 
ual source  of  bliss.  It  inspired  his  pen.  To 
it  he  was  indebted  for  the  poetic  creations 
which  sprung  unbidden  from  his  brain. 

The  quartet  in  A  minor,  op.  132,  belongs  to 
the  spring  and  summer  of  1825.  His  journey 
to  London  had  been  postponed.  Schindler 
gives  as  the  reason  of  this,  the  "bad  behavior 
of  his  dearly  beloved  nephew,  which  had  be- 
come somewhat  notorious."  How  could  his 
"son"  be  abandoned,  thus  unguarded,  to  "the 
poisonous  breath  of  the  dragon?"  But  as  the 
invitation  was  renewed,  the  Tenth  Symphony 
was  again  taken  in  hand,  and  from  the 
sketches  of  it  now  made,  we  know  all  that  is 
certain  about  it.  It  was  intended  to  do  no 
less  than  to  add  the  "beautiful  to  the  good," 
to  wed  the  spirit  of  Christianity  to  the  beauty 
of  the  antique,  or  rather  to  transfigure  the 
mere  worldly  beauty  of  the  antique  in  the 
light  of  the  superterrestrial.  We  find,  indeed, 
a  picture  of  this  kind,  a  direct,  intentional, 
higher  picture  of  the  world  in  the  adagio, 


A   MINOR   QUARTET.  181 

in  modo  lidico,  in  the  second  quartet.  It  is 
called  the  "Song  of  Thanksgiving  of  a  Con- 
valescent to  the  Diety,"  and  is  a  choral  be- 
tween the  repetitions  of  which,  ever  richer 
and  more  heartfelt,  the  joyful  pulsations  of 
new  life  are  expressed.  Beethoven  had  been 
seriously  sick  during  this  spring.  His  affec- 
tion for  his  nephew  had  assumed,  in  conse- 
quence of  one  continual  irritation  of  his  feel- 
ings, the  nature  of  a  passion  which  tormented 
the  boy  to  death,  but  which,  like  every  pas- 
sion, brought  no  happiness  to  Beethoven  him- 
self. The  first  movement  of  this  quartet  in 
A  minor  is  a  psychological  picture — a  poem  of 
the  passions — the  consuming  character  of 
which  can  be  explained  only  by  this  very 
condition  of  the  artists'  own  soul.  And  how 
Beethoven's  creations  always  came  from  his 
own  great  soul,  that  soul  so  fully  capable  of 
every  shade  of  feeling  and  excitement!  The 
account  left  us  by  the  young  poet,  Rellstab, 
written  in  the  spring  of  1825,  gives  us  a  per- 
fect description  of  the  state  Beethoven  was  in 
at  this  time.  He  describes  him  "a  man  with  a 
kindly  look,  but  a  look  also  of  suffering." 
Beethoven's  own  letters  comfirm  the  correct- 


182  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

ness  of  this  description.  "In  what  part  of  me 
am  I  not  wounded  and  torn?"  he  cries  out  to 
his  nephew,  whose  frivolity  had  already  begun 
to  bear  evil  fruit.  On  another  occasion  he 
said:  "O,  trouble  me  no  more.  The  man 
with  the  scythe  will  not  respite  me  much 
longer." 

Notwithstanding  this,  however,  or  perhaps 
because  of  this  extreme  excitement  of  his 
whole  nature,  the  summer  of  1825  was  very 
rich  in  productions.  "Almost  in  spite  of  him- 
self," he  had  to  write  the  quartet  in  C  sharp 
minor  (op.  131) ;  after  that  in  B  major  (op. 
130).  The  last  quartet  also,  that  in  F  major, 
had  its  origin  in  that  "inexhaustible  fancy" 
— a  fancy  which  always  tended  to  the  produc- 
tion of  such  works.  Hence  it  is  that  the 
number  of  movements  increases.  The  second 
has  five;  the  third  (B  major),  six;  and  the 
fourth  (C  sharp  minor),  seven — as  if  the  old 
form  of  the  suite,  or  the  divertimento  of  the 
septet  was  to  be  repeated.  But  a  moment's 
comparison  immediately  shows  the  presence  of 
the  old  organic  articulation  of  the  form  of  the 
sonata.  These  movements  are  in  fact  only 
transitions  to,  and  connecting  links  between, 


F   MAJOR   QUARTET.  183 

two  colossal  movements.  They  increase  the 
usual  number  of  movements,  although  fre- 
quently nothing  more  than  short  sentences, 
and  at  times  only  a  few  measures.  But  the 
introductory  movement  and  the  finale  in  the 
quartet  in  A  minor  loom  up  like  the  pillars 
of  Hercules,  and  determine  the  impassioned 
character  and  the  dramatic  style  of  the  whole. 
Beethoven  himself  called  it  a  piece  of  art 
worthy  of  him.  The  same  may  be  said  of  op. 
130,  when  the  great  fuge,  op.  133,  is  considered 
a  part  of  it,  which  in  our  day  it  should  always 
be  conceded  to  be.  And  how  immensely  great 
is  this  spirit  when,  in  the  quartet  in  C  sharp 
minor,  it  awakes  from  the  most  profound  con- 
templation of  self  to  the  contemplation  of  the 
world  and  its  pain. — "  Through  sorrow,  joy!" 
We  must  refer  the  reader  to  the  third 
volume  of  Beethoven's  Leben,  published  in 
Leipzig  in  1877,  for  a  detailed  account  of  the 
desolation  of  our  artist,  produced  by  the  nar- 
row circle  with  which  the  restoration  of  Met- 
ternich  and  Gentz  surrounded  him,  at  a  time 
when  his  own  mind  and  feeling  were  expand- 
ing to  greater  dimensions  than  ever  before. 
To  the  same  source  we  must  send  him  for  a 


184  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

description  of  the  full  earnestness  and  great- 
ness of  this  last  period  in  the  life  of  our  artist. 
In  that  work  was  for  the  first  time  presented 
to  the  public,  from  original  sources,  and  es- 
pecially from  the  records  of  Beethoven's  writ- 
ten conversations,  extant  in  the  Berlin  library, 
the  comfortless — but  at  the  same  time,  and 
spite  of  continual  torment,  intellectually  ex- 
alted— picture  of  his  character.  "  Words  are 
interdicted.  It  is  a  fortunate  thing  that  tones 
are  yet  free,"  wrote  Ch.  Kuffner,  the  poet  of 
the  oratorio,  Saul  and  David,  to  him  at  this 
time — a  work  in  which  he  wished  to  give  ex- 
pression both  to  his  own  relation  as  a  human 
being  to  his  "David,"  and  to  the  wonder- 
working nature  of  his  art.  The  execution  of 
this  plan  was  prevented  only  by  death.  The 
general  demoralization  which  had  invaded 
Vienna  with  the  Congress  made  its  effects  felt 
directly  in  his  own  circle,  through  the  agency 
of  his  nephew,  and  thus  paved  the  way  for 
disaster  to  himself.  "Our  age  has  need  of 
vigorous  minds  to  scourge  these  paltry,  mali- 
cious, miserable  wretches,"  he  cries  out  at  this 
very  time  to  his  nephew,  who  had  permitted 
himself  to  make  merry,  in  a  manner  well  cal- 


HIS   NEPHEW.  185 


culated  to  irritate,  at  the  expense  of  a  genuine 
faijak — as  Beethoven  was  wont  now  to  call 
the  good  Viennese — the  music-dealer  Has- 
linger;  and  the  matter  had  become  public. 
But  he  adds  to  the  above:  "Much  as  my  heart 
resists  causing  pain  to  a  single  human  being." 
And,  indeed,  his  heart  knew  nothing  of  such 
anger  or  vengeance.  It  was  always  a  real  sym- 
pathizer with  the  sorrows  born  of  human 
weakness — a  sorrow  which  with  him  swelled 
to  the  dimensions  of  the  world-sorrow  itself. 
To  this  feeling  his  op.  130  in  B  major  is 
indebted  for  its  series  of  pictures,  in  which 
we  see  the  world  created,  as  it  were,  anew  with 
a  bold  hand,  with  the  ironic,  smiling,  melan- 
choly, humorous,  cheerful  coloring  of  the 
several  pieces — pieces  which,  indeed,  are  no 
mere  sonata  movements,  but  full  pictures  of 
life  and  of  the  soul.  The  cavatina  overtops 
it  as  a  piece  of  his  own  heart,  which,  as  he 
admitted  himself  to  K.  Holz,  always  drew  from 
him  "fresh  tears." 

"Imitate  my  virtues,  not  my  faults,"  he 
implores  his  uson."  Speaking  of  the  rabble 
of  domestics,  he  says:  "I  have  had  to  suffer 
the  whole  week  like  a  saint;"  and,  on  another 


186  THE    LIFE   OF    BEETHOVEN. 

occasion,  still  more  painfully:  "May  God  be 
with  thee  and  me.  It  will  be  all  over  soon 
with  thy  faithful  father."  His  days,  so 
strangely  divided  between  the  loftiest  visions 
of  the  spirit  and  the  meanest  troubles  of  life, 
henceforth  render  him  more  and  more  indif- 
ferent to  the  latter.  We  find  persons  invade 
his  circle  whom  otherwise  he  would  never 
have  permanently  endured  about  him,  and 
who  frequently  led  him  into  minor  sorts  of 
dissipation  even  in  public  places.  This  re- 
acted on  the  nephew,  whose  respect  for  the 
character  of  his  "great  uncle"  could  not  long 
stand  a  course  of  action  apparently  like  his 
own.  But  even  now  we  see  a  picture  in  tones 
of  which  one  of  the  faijaks,  the  government 
officer  and  dilletante,  Holz,  who  copied  it, 
writes  to  Beethoven  himself:  "When  one 
can  survey  it  thus  calmly,  new  worlds  come 
into  being."  We  have  reference  to  the  quar- 
tet in  C  sharp  minor,  op.  131.  "With  a  look 
beaming  with  light,  dripping  with  sorrow  and 
joy,"  young  Dr.  Rollett  saw  him  at  this 
tune  in  beautiful  Baden,  and,  indeed,  this 
work,  which  he  himself  called  the  "greatest" 
of  his  quartets,  discloses  to  us,  in  a  manner  dif- 


HIS   NEPHEW.  187 


ferent  from  the  Ninth  Symphony,  the  mean- 
ing of  his  own  life,  which  he  here  himself,  as 
Richard  Wagner  has  said,  displayed  to  us,  a 
wild  melody  of  pleasure  and  pain.  But  we 
now  recognize  more  clearly  that  something 
"like  a  vulture  is  devouring  his  heart."  We, 
indeed,  are  drawing  near  to  the  catastrophe 
which  led  to  his  premature  end. 

As  early  as  in  the  fall  of  1825  he  had  wit- 
nessed "stormy  scenes."  An  uncontrollable 
love  of  gaming  and  a  habit  of  loitering  about 
the  streets  had  led  the  young  man  into  worse 
and  worse  courses,  to  falsehood  and  embez- 
zlement. And  when  these  were  discovered, 
he  secretly  ran  away  from  home.  It  was  not 
long,  however,  before  the  loving  weakness  of 
his  uncle  called  him  back.  The  only  effect 
of  this  was  henceforth  to  condemn  Beethoven 
himself  to  a  slavish,  too  slavish  life,  one  which 
would  have  been  a  torment  even  to  an  ordinary 
mortal,  but  which  must  have  been  doubly  so 
to  a  passionate,  great  man  who  was  deaf.  The 
nephew  found  fault  with  his  uncle,  with  his 
"reproaches"  and  "rows."  He  accused  him 
even  of  having  led  him  into  bad  company. 
He  dreaded  other  reproaches  still  and  was 


188  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

afraid  of  even  personal  violence.  At  last,  one 
day  in  the  summer  of  1826,  the  uncle  received 
the  frightful  news  that  his  son  had  left  his 
dwelling  with  a  pair  of  pistols,  and  intended  to 
take  his  own  life.  A  long  and  terrible  morn- 
ing was  spent  searching  for  the  unfortunate 
youth,  who  was  finally  led  home,  with  a 
wound  in  his  head,  from  Baden.  "It's  done 
now.  Torment  me  no  longer  with  reproofs 
and  complaints,"  he  writes;  and  his  disposition 
and  feeling  may  be  inferred  from  the  words 
found  in  his  conversation  leaves:  "I  have 
grown  worse,  because  my  uncle  .wanted  to 
make  me  better;"  and  from  these  others : 
"  He  said  it  was  not  hatred,  but  a  very  dif- 
ferent feeling,  that  moved  him  against  you." 
The  uncle,  alas!  understood  these  expres- 
sions better  than  those  about  him.  These  had 
only  words  of  reproach  for  the  reprobate  deed. 
"  Evidences  of  the  deepest  pain  were  plainly 
to  be  seen  in  his  bent  attitude.  The  man,  firm 
and  upright  in  all  the  movements  of  his 
body,  was  gone.  A  person  of  about  seventy 
was  before  us — yielding,  without  a  will,  the 
sport  of  every  breath  of  air."  So  wrote 
Schindler.  Beethoven  called  for  the  Bible 


FOREBODINGS.  189 


"  in  the  real  language  into  which  Luthre 
had  translated  it."  A  few  days  later,  we 
find  in  his  conversations  the  following  mem- 
orandum: "On  the  death  of  Beethoven." 
Did  he  mean  his  own  death,  or  the  death 
of  the  beloved  boy  with  whom  he  had,  so  to 
speak,  lost  his  own  life  ?  Be  this  as  it 
may,  he  now  sang  the  deepest  song  of  his 
soul,  and  it  was  destined  to  be  his  dying  song. 
We  refer  to  the  adagio  in  the  last  quartet,  op. 
135.  His  harp  soon  after  this  grew  silent,  and 
forever.  Henceforth  we  have  only  projects  or 
fragments  of  works.  But  he  touched  it  once 
more,  like  King  Gunther  in  the  Edda,  "  seated 
among  serpents,"  the  most  venomous  of 
which — the  pangs  of  his  own  conscience — 
menaced  him  with  death.  Among  the  pictures 
in  which  he  paints  the  meaning  of  a  theme 
similar  to  that  of  this  adagio  (pieces  thus  in- 
dependent of  one  another  cannot  rightly  be 
called  variations),  there  is  one  whose  minor 
key  and  rhythm  show  it  to  be  a  funeral  ceremo- 
ny of  touching  sublimity.  But  whatever  guilt 
he  may  have  incurred  he  atoned  for  in  his 
heart  of  hearts  by  love.  Such  is  this  picture. 
His  soul  is  free.  This  the  theme  itself 


190  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

tells  us,  eloquently  and  distinctly.  Here  the 
soul,  in  melancholy  stillness,  revolves  about  its 
own  primeval  source,  and  towards  the  close 
plumes  its  wing  for  a  happy,  lofty  flight,  to 
regions  it  has  longed  to  enter.  The  other 
pictures  show  us  this  full,  certain  and  joyful 
possession  of  one's  self,  and  the  last  even  seems 
to  resolve  the  soul  into  its  faculties  when  it 
floats  about  the  Eternal  Being  in  the  most 
blissful  happiness — a  vision  and  condition 
which,  of  all  the  means  of  expression  of  the 
intellect,  only  music  is  able  to  describe,  and 
which  proves  to  us  that,  in  the  case  of  our 
artist,  both  fear  and  death  had  long  been  over- 
come. 

And  thus  it  comes  that  a  "movement  with 
which  there  is  none  to  be  compared,  one  which 
to  our  feelings  is  the  richest  and  most  perfect  of 
all  movements,  and,  at  the  same  time,  of  the 
most  brilliant  transparency,  made  its  way  into 
a  work  which  otherwise  shows  no  trace  of  the 
magnitude  of  this  his  last  effort.  For  the 
finale  is  only  a  sham-play  of  those  magic 
powers  which  our  master  so  well  knew  how 
to  conjure  up,  both  in  sublime  horror  and  in 
saving  joy. 


ILLNESS.  191 

But  his  physical  condition  was  soon  destined 
to  be  in  keeping  with  the  condition  of  his  soul 
above  described.  When,  indeed,  Karl  was 
convalescing  as  well  as  could  be  desired,  and 
he  had  decided  to  follow  the  military  calling, 
Beethoven's  friends  noticed  that,  externally 
at  least,  he  again  looked  fresh  and  cheerful. 
"  He  knew,"  says  Schindler,  "  how  to  rise 
superior  to  his  fate,  and  his  whole  character 
bore  an  '  antique  dignity.' '  But  even  now 
he  told  the  old  friend  of  his  youth,  "Wegeler, 
that  he  intended  "  to  produce  only  a  few  more 
great  works,  and  then,  like  an  old  child,  to 
close  his  earthly  career  somewhere  among  good 
men."  And,  indeed,  his  whole  inner  nature 
seemed  shattered.  "  What  dost  thou  want  ? 
Why  dost  thou  hang  thy  head?  Is  not  the 
truest  resignation  sufficient  for  thee,  even  if 
thou  art  in  want?"  This  one  conversation 
with  Karl  tells  us  everything. 

Besides,  serious  symptoms  of  disease  ap- 
peared. A  single  blow,  and  his  powerful, 
manly  form  was  shattered  like  that  of  the 
meanest  of  mortals.  And,  indeed,  that  blow 
was  struck  with  almost  unexpected  violence. 

After  his  recovery,  Karl  was  released  by 


192  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

the  police  on  the  express  condition  that  he 
would  remain  in  Vienna  only  one  day  more. 
His  scar,  however,  prevented  his  entering  the 
service.  Where,  then,  could  he  go,  now  that 
the  fall  was  just  beginning?  His  brother, 
Johann,  invited  him  to  his  Wasserhof  estate 
near  Gneixendorf.  He  could  no  longer  answer 
as  he  had  once:  non  possibile  per  me — impossi- 
ble for  me.  But  his  sojourn  in  a  country 
house  not  constructed  so  as  to  guard  against 
the  cold  and  dampness,  a  want  of  attention  to 
his  growing  infirmity,  misunderstandings  with 
his  brother's  wife,  a  violent  quarrel  with  the 
brother  himself,  who,  after  it,  refused  him  the 
use  of  his  close  carriage,  and,  lastly,  his  de- 
parture in  the  cold  of  winter  in  the  "  devil's 
own  worst  conveyance."  All  these  causes  con- 
spired to  send  our  patient  back  to  Vienna,  the 
subject  of  a  violent  fit  of  sickness.  In  addition 
to  all  this,  his  nephew  delayed  to  call  a  phy- 
sician, and  none  visited  his  sick  bed  until  the 
third  day  after  his  return.  The  doctor  who 
came  was  not  Beethoven's  customary  physician, 
and  totally  misunderstood  the  nature  of  the 
disease.  Other  shocks  succeeded,  and  the  con- 
sequence was  a  violent  attack  of  dropsy,  the 


LAST   ILLNESS.  193 


symptoms  of  which  had  first  shown  themselves 
in  Gneixendorf. 

His  long,  painfully  long  end  was  now  be- 
ginning. His  constitution,  powerful  as  that  of 
a  giant,  "blocked  the  gates  against  death"  for 
nearly  three  months.  As  labor  of  any  kind 
was  out  of  the  question,  the  arrival  of  Han- 
del's works  from  London,  which  came  to  him 
as  a  present,  supplied  him  with  the  distrac- 
tion he  wished  for,  in  his  own  sphere.  It 
was  not  long  before  attacks  of  suffocation  at 
night  distressed  him  and  it  became  necessary 
to  perform  the  operation  paracentesis.  When 
he  saw  the  stream  of  water  gush  forth,  he  re- 
marked, with  that  sublimity  of  humor  so  pe- 
culiarly his  own,  that  the  surgeon  reminded 
him  of  Moses,  who  struck  the  rock  with  his 
rod;  but,  in  the  same  humorous  vein,  he  added : 
"Better  water  from  the  stomach  than  from  the 
pen."  With  this  he  consoled  himself.  But 
he  grew  worse,  and  a  medical  consultation 
seemed  necessary  to  his  friends.  His  own 
heart  forebode  him  no  good,  and  he  again 
made  his  will  on  the  3rd  of  January,  1827. 
He  made  his  beloved  nephew  "sole  heir  to  all 
he  possessed."  The  nephew  had  gone  to  join 
13 


194  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

his  regiment  the  day  before,  and  this  had  a 
good  and  quieting  effect  on  Beethoven.  He 
knew  that  the  young  man  would  be  best  pro- 
vided for  there,  and  testified  his  gratitude  to 
General  von  Stutterheim,  who  had  received 
him,  by  dedicating  to  that  officer  his  quartet 
in  C  sharp  minor — his  "greatest"  quartet. 
He  urged  that  Dr.  Malfatti  should  be  called. 
But  he  had  had  a  falling  out  years  before  with 
him,  and  the  celebrated  physician  did  not  now 
want  to  excite  the  displeasure  of  his  colleagues. 
Schindler  tells  us:  "Beethoven  wept  bitterly 
when  I  told  him  the  doctor's  decision." 

But  Malfatti  came  at  last,  and,  after  they  had 
exchanged  a  few  words,  the  old  friends  lay 
weeping  in  each  other's  arms.  The  doctor 
prescribed  iced  punch  to  "  quicken  the  organs 
of  digestion,  enervated  by  too  much  medi- 
cine." The  first  physician  who  was  called  to 
attend  him  tells  us:  "The  effect  of  the  prescrip- 
tion was  soon  perceptible.  He  grew  cheerful, 
was  full  of  witty  sallies  at  times,  and  even 
dreamt  that  he  might  be  able  to  finish  his  ora- 
torio Saul  and  David"  From  his  written 
conversations,  we  see  that  a  great  many  of  his 
friends  had  gathered  about  his  bed.  He 


THE    ENGLISH.  195 


thought  of  finishing  the  Bach  overture  for  one 
of  Schindler's  concerts,  and  even  began  to 
busy  himself  with  the  Tenth  Symphony  once 
more.  He  had  again  to  experience  the  feeling 
of  pecuniary  embarrassment  while  in  this  con- 
dition— an  embarrassment  now  more  painful 
than  ever — brought  about  more  especially  by 
the  necessity  of  procuring  a  military  outfit  for 
Karl.  Galitzin  had,  indeed,  expressly  prom- 
ised a  short  time  before  to  send  him  money, 
but  he  proved  a  "  princely  boaster;"  and  there 
was  no  prospect  of  an  income  from  any  other 
source.  All  his  completed  works  had  been 
sold,  and  the  little  fortune  he  had  laid  aside 
at  the  time  of  the  Congress  of  Vienna  was 
irrevocably  pledged  to  Karl  by  his  will. 

His  thoughts  now  turned  to  the  "  magnani- 
mous "  English,  who  had  already  promised 
him  a  "  benefit."  His  disease  lasted  a  long  time. 
The  third  operation  had  been  performed.  His 
long-continued  solitude  had  alienated  men 
from  him  in  Vienna;  and,  especially  after  his 
experiences  with  the  Akademie  in  1824,  he 
had  no  confidence  in  the  devotion  and  en- 
thusiasm for  art  of  his  second  home.  This 
induced  Schindler  to  write  to  England :  "  But 


196  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

what  afflicts  him  very  much  is,  that  no  one 
here  concerns  himself  in  the  least  about  him  ; 
and,  indeed,  this  total  absence  of  interest  in 
him  is  very  surprising."  After  this,  we  find 
only  his  most  intimate  friends  at  his  bedside. 
Among  these  was  Gleichenstein,  who  happened 
to  be  in  Vienna  on  a  short  visit.  He  writes  : 
"  Thou  must  bless  my  boy  as  Voltaire  blessed 
Franklin's  son.''  Hummel,  who  was  travel- 
ing and  giving  concerts,  also  saw  him,  and  at 
the  sight  of  his  suffering — he  had  just  under- 
gone the  fourth  operation — burst  into  tears. 
Beethoven  had,  at  the  moment  of  Hummel's 
visit,  received  a  little  picture  as  a  present,  and 
he  showed  it  to  him,  saying :  "  See,  my  dear 
Hummel,  the  house  in  which  Haydn  was 
born — the  miserable  peasant  hut,  in  which  so 
great  a  man  was  born !  " 

He  asks  his  Khenish  publisher,  Schott,  who 
had  purchased  his  Mass  and  his  Ninth  Sym- 
phony, and  who  was  destined  one  day  to  be- 
come the  owner  of  the  Niebelungen,  for  some 
old  wine  to  strengthen  him.  Malfatti  recom- 
mended an  aromatic  bath ;  and  such  a  bath,  it 
seemed  to  him,  would  surely  save  him.  But 
it  had  the  very  opposite  effect,  and  he  was 


TENTH   SYMPHONY.  197 

soon  taken  with  violent  pains.  He  wrote  to 
London :  "  I  only  ask  God  that  I  may  be  pre- 
served from  want  as  long  as  I  must  here  en- 
dure a  living  death."  The  response  was  one 
thousand  guldens  from  the  Philharmonic  So- 
ciety of  that  city  "  on  account  of  the  concert 
in  preparation."  "  It  was  heart-rending  to 
see  how  he  folded  his  hands  and  almost  dis- 
solved in  tears  of  joy  and  gratitude  "  when  he 
received  them.  This  was  his  last  joy,  and  the 
excitement  it  caused  accelerated  his  end.  His 
wound  broke  open  again  and  did  not  close  any 
more.  He  felt  this  at  first  a  wonderful  relief, 
and  while  he  felt  so  he  dictated  some  letters 
for  London,  which  are  among  the  most  beauti- 
ful he  has  written.  He  promised  to  finish 
the  Tenth  Symphony  for  the  Society,  and  had 
other  "gigantic"  plans,  especially  as  regards 
his  Faust-music.  "  That  will  be  something 
worth  hearing,"  he  frequently  exclaimed.  The 
overflow  of  his  fancy  was  "indescribable,  and 
his  imagination  showed  an  elasticity  which 
his  friends  had  noticed  but  seldom  when  he 
was  in  health."  At  the  same  time,  the  most 
beautiful  pictures  of  dramatic  poetry  floated 
before  his  mind,  and  in  conversation  he  always 


198  THE   LIFE   OF   BEETHOVEN. 

represented  bis  own  works  as  filled  with  such 
"  poetic  ideas."  But  his  sufferings  soon  became 
"indescribably  great.  His  dissolution  was 
approaching  "  with  giant  steps,  and  even  his 
friends  could  only  wish  for  his  end.  Schindler 
wrote  to  London  on  the  24th  March :  "  He 
feels  that  his  end  is  near,  for  yesterday  he  said 
to  Breuning  and  me:  'Clap  your  hands, 
friends;  the  play  is  over.''  And  further: 
"He  advances  towards  death  with  really  So- 
cratic  wisdom  and  unexampled  equanimity." 
He  could  well  be  calm  of  heart  and  soul.  He 
had  done  his  duty  as  an  artist  and  as  a  man. 
This  same  day  he  wrote  a  codicil  to  his  will 
in  favor  of  his  nephew;  and  now  his  friends 
had  only  one  deep  concern — to  reconcile  him 
with  heaven.  The  physician  approved,  and 
Beethoven  calmly  but  resolutely  answered : 
"I  will." 

The  clergyman  came  and  Beethoven  de- 
voutly performed  his  last  religious  duties. 
Madame  Johann  van  Beethoven  heard  him 
say,  after  he  had  received  the  sacrament  : 
"Reverend  sir,  I  thank  you.  You  have 
brought  me  consolation." 

He  then  reminded  Schindler  of  the  letter 


DEATH.  199 

to  London.  "  May  God  bless  them,"  he  said. 
The  wine  he  had  asked  for  came.  "  Too  bad ! 
too  bad!  it's  too  late!"  These  were  his  very 
last  words.  He  fell  immediately  after  into 
such  an  agony  that  he  was  not  able  to  utter  a 
single  syllable  more.  On  the  24th  and  25th 
of  March,  the  people  came  in  crowds  to  see 
him  again.  Even  the  faijaks,  Hoslinger  and 
Holz,  as  well  as  the  poet  Castelli,  were  among 
them.  u  All  three  of  us  knelt  before  his  bed," 
said  Holz,  subsequently,  to  Frau  Linzbaur, 
who,  in  relating  the  incident,  added  that  when 
Holz  told  it  "  his  voice  forsook  him,  and  he 
covered  his  face  and  wept.  '  He  blessed  us/ 
he  said,  with  an  effort ;  '  we  kissed  his  hand, 
but  never  saw  him  again.' '  This  was  the  last 
act  of  his  life. 

"On  the  26th,  the  little  pyramidal  clock, 
which  he  had  received  as  a  present  from 
Princess  Christiane  Lichnowsky,  stopped,  as 
it  still  does  when  a  storm  is  approaching. 
Schindler  and  Breuning  had  gone  to  the 
churchyard,  to  select  a  grave  for  him.  A 
storm  of  loud  thunder  and  hail  came  raging 
on  about  five  o'clock.  No  one  but  Frau  van 
Beethoven  and  the  young  composer,  Anselm 


200  THE    LIFE    OF    BEETHOVEN. 

Huettenbrenner,  who  had  hurried  hither  from 
Graz  to  look  upon  his  revered  master  once 
more,  were  present  in  the  room  of  the  dying 
man.  A  stroke  of  lightning  illuminated  it 
with  a  lurid  flash.  The  moribund  opened  his 
eyes,  raised  his  right  hand,  and  looked  up  with 
a  fixed  gaze  for  several  seconds:  the  soul  of 
the  hero  would  not  out.  But  "when  his  up- 
lifted hand  fell  back  on  the  bed,  his  eyes  half 
closed.  Not  another  breath!  Not  another 
heart-beat!  It  was  I  that  closed  the  half-open 
eyes  of  the  sleeper."  So  says  Huettenbrenner, 
an  eye-witness  of  our  artist's  last  moment. 
This  was  the  26th  of  March,  1827. 

"No  mourning  wife,  no  sou,  no  daughter, 
wept  at  his  grave,  but  a  world  wept  at  it." 
These  are  the  words  of  the  orator  of  the  day 
on  the  occasion  of  the  unveiling  of  the  first 
monument  to  Beethoven  in  1845,  in  Bonn. 
But  his  funeral  on  that  beautiful  day  in  spring 
was  a  very  brilliant  one.  A  sea  of  twenty 
thousand  human  beings  surged  over  the  street 
where  now  the  votive  church  stands;  for  in 
the  Schwarzspanierhaus  behind  it,  Beethoven 
had  lived  during  the  last  years  of  his  life. 
The  leading  capellmeisters  of  the  city  carried 


HIS    FUNERAL.  201 


the  pall,  and  writers  and  musicians  the  torches. 
"The  news  of  his  death  had  violently  shaken 
the  people  out  of  their  indifference,"  says  Dr. 
G.  von  Breuning.  And,  indeed,  it  was,  as  a 
poor  old  huxtress  exclaimed  when  she  saw  the 
funeral  procession,  "  the  general  of  musicians  " 
whom  men  were  carrying  to  the  grave!  The 
poet,  Grillparzer,  delivered  the  funeral  oration. 
He  took  for  his  text  the  words:  "He  was  an 
artist,  and  he  was  what  he  was  only  through 
his  art."  Our  very  being  and  our  sublimest 
feelings  are  touched  when  we  hear  the  name 
of 

LUDWIG   VAN   BEETHOVEN. 


New  Edition,  re-written  and  greatly  enlarged. 


WOMAN  IN  MUSIC. 

BY  GEORGE  P.  UPTON,  Author  of  "The  Standard  Operas,"  etc. 
i6mo,  222  pages.      Price,  $1.00. 

"Woman  in  Music,"  by  George  P.  Upton,  the  author  of 
"  Standard  Operas"  and  other  valuable  contributions  to  musical 
literature,  is  a  novel  venture  in  literature  and  full  of  interest  and 
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brochure  might  justly  be  said  to  contain  the  romance  of  musical 
history. 

It  is  divided  into  three  parts.  In  the  first,  the  author  discusses 
the  much  vexed  question  why  so  few  women  have  been  gifted  with 
musical  creative  power  of  the  highest  order,  and  traces  the  real 
relations  of  woman  to  music. 

In  the  second  part,  the  influence  of  woman  in  inspiring  the 
highest  musical  composition  is  shown  in  a  series  of  short  biograph- 
ical sketches  of  Bach,  Haydn,  Mozart,  Beethoven,  Schubert, 
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their  more  important  works. 

The  book  is  the  result  of  a  very  wide  gleaning  in  the  out-of-the- 
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Musicians. 

MUSIC-STUDY  IN  GERMANY. 

BY  MISS  AMY  FAY. 

One  Handsome  12 mo.  Volume,   -  Price,  81.25 

"They  are  charming  letters,  both  In  style  and  matter,  and  the  descrip- 
tions of  Tauslg,  Kullak,  Liszt  and  Deppe,  with  each  of  whom  Miss  Fay 
studied,  are  done  with  all  the  delicacy  of  a  sketch  by  Meissonnler."  — 
Globe,  Boston. 

"  In  delicacy  of  touch,  vivacity,  and  ease  of  expression  and  general  charm 
of  style,  these  letters  are  models  In  their  way.  The  pictures  which  she 
gives  of  the  various  masters  under  which  she  studied,  have  the  value  that 
all  such  representations  possess  when  they  are  drawn  from  life  and  with 
fidelity."—  Graphic,  New  York. 

"  One  of  the  brightest  small  books  we  have  seen  Is  Amy  Fay's  Music- 
Study  In  Germany.  These  letters  are  written  home  by  a  young  lady  who 
went  to  Germany  to  perfect  her  piano  playing.  *  *  *  Her 
observation  Is  close  and  accurate,  and  the  sketches  ol  Tauslg,  Liszt  and 
other  musical  celebrities,  are  capitally  done." — Christian  Advocate,  New 
York. 

"The  Intrinsic  value  of  the  work  Is  great;  Its  simplicity,  Its  minute 
details,  Its  freedom  from  every  kind  of  affectation,  constitute  In  them- 
selves most  admirable  qualities.  The  remarkably  Intimate  and  open  picture 
we  get  of  Liszt  surpasses  any  picture  of  him  heretofore  afforded.  It  Is 
a  charming  picture— strong,  simple,  gracious,  noble  and  sincere."—  Time*, 
Chicago. 

"It  Is  bright  and  entertaining,  being  filled  with  descriptions,  opinions 
and  facts  In  regard  to  the  many  distinguished  musicians  and  artists  of  the 
present  day.  A  little  Insight  into  the  home  life  of  the  German  people  Is 
presented  to  the  reader,  and  the  atmosphere  of  art  seems  to  give  a  bright- 
ness and  worth  to  the  picture  which  Imparts  pleasure  with  the  interest  It 
creates." — Letter  to  Dwight's  Journal  of  Music. 

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HPHE    STANDARD    OPERAS.     Their  Plots, 
•*•       their  Music,  and    their  Composers.     By  GEORGE   P. 
UPTON.     I2mo,  371  pages,  yellow  edges,  $1.50;   extra  gilt, 
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"  The  summaries  of  the  plots  are  so  clear,  logical  and  well 
written,  that  one  can  read  them  with  real  pleasure,  which  can 
not  be  said  of  the  ordinary  operatic  synopses.  But  the  most 
important  circumstance  is  that  Mr.  Upton's  book  is  fully 
abreast  of  the  times." — The  Nation  (New  York). 

' '  Mr.  Upton  has  performed  a  service  that  can  hardly  be  too 
highly  appreciated,  in  collecting  the  plots,  music,  and  the 
composers  of  the  standard  operas,  to  the  number  of  sixty-four, 
and  bringing  them  together  in  one  perfectly  arranged  volume. 
.  .  .  His  work  is  one  simply  invaluable  to  the  general  reading 
public.  Technicalities  are  avoided,  the  aim  being  to  give  to 
musically  uneducated  lovers  of  the  opera  a  clear  understanding 
of  the  works  they  hear.  It  is  description,  not  criticism,  and 
calculated  to  greatly  increase  the  intelligent  enjoymen:  of 
music-" —  The  Boston  Traveller. 

"  Among  the  multitude  of  handbooks  which  are  published 
every  year,  and  are  described  by  easy-going  writers  of  book- 
notices  as  supplying  a  long  felt  want,  we  know  of  none  which 
so  completely  carries  out  the  intention  of  the  writei  as  '  The 
Standard  Operas,'  by  Mr.  George  P.  Upton,  whose  object  is  to 
present  to  his  readers  a  comprehensive  sketch  of  each  of  the 
operas  contained  in  the  modern  repertory.  .  .  .  There  are 
thousands  of  music-loving  people  who  will  be  glad  to  have  the 
kind  of  knowledge  which  Mr.  Upton  has  collected  for  their 
benefit,  and  has  cast  in  a  clear  and  compact  form." — J?.  H. 
Stoddard,  in"  The  Evening  Mail  and  Express"  (New  York). 


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STANDARD   ORATORIOS.     Their 
•^       Stories,  their  Music,  and  their  Composers,     A  Hand- 
book.   By  GEORGE  P.    UPTON.     i2mo,  335   pages,    yellow 
edges,  $1.50;  extra  gilt,  gilt  edges,  $2. 

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"  Music  lovers  are  under  a  new  obligation  to  Mr.  Upton  for 
this  companion  to  his  "  Standard  Operas," — two  books  which 
deserve  to  be  placed  on  the  same  shelf  with  Grove's  and 
Riemann's  musical  dictionaries." — The  Nation,  New  York. 

"  Mr.  George  P.  Upton  has  followed  in  the  lines  that  he  laid 
down  in  his  ' '  Standard  Operas, "  and  has  produced  an  admirable 
handwork,  which  answers  every  purpose  that  such  a  volume  is 
designed  to  answer." — The  Mail  and  Express,  New  York. 

"  Like  the  valuable  art  hand  books  of  Mrs.  Jamison,  these 
volumes  contain  a  world  of  interesting  information,  indis- 
pensable to  critics  and  art  amateurs.  The  volume  under 
review  is  elegantly  and  succinctly  written,  and  the  subjects 
are  handled  in  a  thoroughly  comprehensive  manner." — Public 
Opinion,  Washington. 

"The  book  is  a  masterpiece  of  skilful  handling,  charming 
the  reader  with  its  pure  English  style,  and  keeping  his  atten- 
tion always  awake  in  an  arrangement  of  matter  which  makes 
each  succeeding  page  and  chapter  fresh  in  interest  and  always 
full  of  induction,  while  always  entertaining." — The  Standard, 
Chicago. 

"  The  author  of  this  book  has  done  a  real  service  to  the  vast 
number  of  people  who,  while  they  are  lovers  of  music,  have 
neither  the  leisure  nor  inclination  to  become  deeply  versed  in 
its  literature.  .  .  .  The  information  conveyed  is  of  just  the 
sort  that  the  average  of  cultivated  people  will  welcome  as  an 
aid  to  comprehending  and  talking  about  this  species  of  musical 
composition." — Church  Magazine,  Philadelphia. 


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T^HE    STANDARD    CANTATAS.     Their 
•*•       Stories,  Their  Music,  and  Their  Composers.    A  Hand- 
book.    By  GEORGE  P.   UPTON.     i2mo,   367  pages,   yellow 
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"  It  is  the  only  handbook  and  guide  for  musicians  and  their 
frit.-'vds,  and  is  as  valuable  as  either  of  the  two  admirable 
works  preceding  it." — The  Globe,  Boston. 

"  Mr.  Upton  describes  these  cantatas  very  clearly.  The 
book  may  be  warmly  commended  to  those  who  are  fond  of 
music  as  containing  information  which  can  be  found  in  no 
other  single  work." — The  Chronicle,  San  Francisco. 

"  A  new  book  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Upton,  relating  in  any 
way  to  music,  is  sure  to  be  welcomed,  not  only  by  musicians 
but  by  the  general  public,  for  he  has  a  happy  way  of  treating 
what  most  people  consider  a  very  dry  subject  in  a  most  enter- 
taining manner." —  The  Chicago  Tribune. 

"  The  general  reader  of  musical  literature  will  find  here  an 
account  of  the  principal  cantatas,  the  stories  upon  which  they 
are  founded,  the  characteristics  of  the  music,  and  brief  sketches 
of  the  lives  of  the  composers.  The  plan  of  the  work  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  author's  handbooks  o^.  the  standard  operas 
and  oratorios.  His  purpose  is  to  furnish  a  guide  to  those  not 
familiar  with  the  field,  rather  than  an  exhaustive  criticism  for 
adepts  in  the  science." — The  Home  Journal,  New  York. 

"  A  book  that  describes  and  analyzes  the  many  cantatas  of 
the  world  must  therefore  be  a  book  that  ranges  through  the 
wide  realm  of  music.  The  author  of  the  '  Standard  Cantatas ' 
appreciates  the  situation.  He  enters  heartily  into  his  work  of 
definition,  discrimination,  biography,  history,  incident,  explan- 
ation. Mr.  Upton's  book  is  designed  for  lovers  of  music.  .  . 
It  covers  ground  that  has  never  been  carefully  worked  and 
Mr.  Upton  does  his  task  with  fidelity,  spirit,  taste." — The 
Illustrated  Christian  Weekly,  New  York. 


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' '  The  usefulness  of  this  handbook  can  not  be  doubted.  Its 
pages  are  full  of  these  fascinating  renderings.  The  accounts 
of  each  composer  are  succinct  and  yet  sufficient.  The  author 
has  done  a  genuine  service  to  the  world  of  music  lovers.  The 
comprehension  of  orchestral  work  of  the  highest  character  is 
aided  efficiently  by  this  volume." — Public  Opinion,  Washington. 

"  There  has  never  been,  in  this  country  at  least,  so  thorough 
an  attempt  to  collate  the  facts  of  programme  music.  ...  As  a 
definite  helper  in  some  cases  and  as  a  refresher  in  others  we 
believe  Mr.  Upton's  book  to  have  a  lasting  value.  .  .  .  The 
book,  in  brief,  shows  enthusiastic  and  honorable  educational 
purpose,  good  taste,  and  sound  scholarship." — The  American, 
Philadelphia. 

"  It  is  written  in  a  style  that  can  not  fail  to  stimulate  the 
reader,  if  also  a  student  of  music,  to  strive  to  find  for  himself 
the  underlying  meanings  of  the  compositions  of  the  great 
composers.  It  contains,  besides  a  vast  amount  of  information 
about  the  symphony,  its  evolution  and  structure,  with  sketches 
of  the  composers,  and  a  detailed  technical  description  of  a  few 
symphonic  models.  It  meets  a  recognized  want  of  all  concert 
goers." — The  Chautauquan. 

"The  explanations  of  the  meaning  of  the  different  move- 
ments in  the  symphonies,  and  of  the  various  themes  employed, 
are  useful  and  instructive.  Mr.  Upton's  interpretations  are 
as  helpful  as  they  are  fascinating.  For  those  who  have  not 
yet  heard  the  compositions  described,  they  are  excellent  guides 
toward  a  more  intelligent  understanding  of  the  music.  And 
even  those  already  familiar  with  these  compositions  will  find 
new  suggestions  in  this  volume,  and  will  be  interested  in  the 
interpretations,  as  clear  and  interesting  expressions  of  impres- 
sions made  on  the  author." — The  Epoch,  New  York. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers,  or  mailed,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of 
price,  by 

A.  C.  McCLURG  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

COR.  WABASH  AVH.  AND  MADISON  ST.,  CHICAGO. 


40^77 


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